Do Not Go Gentle

Chapters

Dew Drop
Reintroduction
Why?
Plans
Is Everypony Ready?
Golden Leaf and Firebrand
No Deal
Haymaker
Something Familiar
Begin at the Beginning
A Lesson In Death
Debrief
Death In Slow-Motion
Course Correction
Succubus
Patterns
Starswirl
A Last Royal Audience
Rewind
G.T.
Assignments
Patrol
Death Deferred
Sins of the Father
Buried Tales
What Lies Beneath
Clash
Déjà Vu
Balance of Power
Trespassing
Close Quarters
Beautiful Dreamer
"Sisters"
A Lesson in Entropy
A Living Nightmare
Betrayal
Reaping
Interlude
Prologue
Scene of the Crime
The Pit
Treasure Trove
"Then Let Us Do the Hard Things Now!"

Dew Drop

Dew Drop watched the sun settle into the western sea, its dying rays glinting off the snow-capped summit of Smokey Mountain, far to the east. The little honey-colored mare tossed back her rust-red mane and wiped the sweat from her brow. She surveyed her strawberry patch and adjacent artichoke field with satisfaction, as dusk gathered around her, and the crickets began their song.

She cantered slowly back to her pale blue clapboard cottage, and regarded the sweet pea and ivy that were running riot around and up the porch.

“You’re pretty, but a pain!” She sighed. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow--got cash crops to tend to first. Speaking of…”

She retrieved two pieces of mail peeking out from the small letter box attached to the porch.

“A bill and an order. Funny how these things always seem to balance out!” Dew Drop grimaced, but perked up as she crossed the threshold into her kitchen, scanning the letter from “Grumpy’s Greengrocers of Vanhoover.”

“All the artichokes, this time! Well, that takes a load off, to be sure!”

She plopped down on an old bench next to a cast-iron stove, and tossed the opened envelope onto the sand-scrubbed, rough-hewn table a few feet away.

“Maybe I will be able to afford to expand the strawberries next season,” she mused happily, opening the invoice from the local gardening supply shop. A quick read confirmed her hopes, as it was clear she would have plenty of capital left to enlarge her small farm.

She set the invoice atop the other mail, leaned back, rubbed her temples, and sighed wearily but contentedly. She stood and walked to a small sideboard table, under the window, and poured a long draw of hard cider from a stoppered jug into a crackle-glazed mug.

“Oh, that’s nice!” Dew Drop exclaimed as the sweet liquid flowed into her, producing both warming and cooling effects, quenching her thirst, and heightening the impact of her hard-earned fatigue. She moaned a little as her eyelids drooped.

“No, no, no--not yet!” She exclaimed as she shook her head vigorously, walked to the sink and placed the mug in it. She stared glassily for a few seconds at the empty cup.

“Well, maybe I can finish up in the morning,” she argued to herself. “It’s been a long day…”

She turned on the faucet, rinsed out the mug, and stuck her head under the stream, washing away the sweat from her mane and face. She stepped back from the counter, grabbed a towel from an adjacent rack, and wearily ran it across her face and through her mane.

“Close enough.”

She locked the front door, drew the shades, and shuffled into the nearby bedroom. She dropped heavily onto the dark, antique four-poster bed, her pale golden-tan coat contrasting against the forest-green quilt. Within moments her breathing became heavy and regular as the room dimmed, and evening slid inexorably toward night.

“Dew Drop.”

Her eyes snapped open and her ears perked up as she attempted to locate the voice that had just roused her from her slumber.

“Dew Drop.”

“Who’s here?” she asked warily. She didn’t recognize the voice, yet there was something familiar about it.

She rolled uncertainly off the edge of her bed, and stumbled forward, her hooves unexpectedly digging into soft mould and bracken. She smelled the resinous odor of pine trees about her.

She glanced up at the ceiling and saw stars; she furrowed her brow in confusion, and had to step quickly to her right to avoid a gnarled tree root. She spun back toward her bed, but saw only the distant seashore. A full moon now hung in the sky, but it cast no light.

“I warn you, I’m no shrinking violet! I’ll kick your teeth down your throat!” She struggled as the ground beneath her hooves softened and gave way, staggering her.

“I don’t think it will come to that, my dear,” the voice said, again from some unlocatable point in space, “You’ll find it hard to kick anything if you can’t move your legs…”

Dew Drop lurched forward and collapsed on the ground, as though all her joints had come undone at once. Her eyes darted wildly about, still seeking the source of the voice. But the world had darkened beyond anything she had ever known. The absence of light had actually taken on an almost physical form by now, sucking away her ability to even see the grass directly in front of her muzzle.

“What do you want?” she shouted, her nostrils flaring as panic overtook her. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as though it was trying to escape.

“To give you a gift.”

A form appeared above her, impossibly dark, darker even than the void that now enveloped everything before her eyes, everything in her mind, and everything in the world, as far as Dew Drop knew. Her emerald-green eyes widened in terror as shapeless sounds escaped her throat.

“But first I need something from you.”

A blinding golden horn emerged suddenly from the impenetrable gloom and gently touched Dew Drop’s forehead. Tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping to the turf. Her chest heaved violently, and the pounding in her chest stopped. The open world dissolved back into a room, now filled with the sharp smell of urine. Her final fleeting thoughts were of strawberries.

“Thank you,” said the voice.

Reintroduction

Princess Luna shifted back and forth on her cushions, settling into a comfortable slouch as her mind reached out beyond her chambers to touch multiple ponies’ dreams.

As she glided above Equestria’s ever-shifting dreamscape, she saw a young earth pony struggling with a cluster of dark, choking vines that had appeared beside an otherwise placid pond. The vines had sneaked up behind the pony and pulled her under the water’s surface.

Luna tipped a wing up, and dropped down in a low arc, effortlessly clearing away the tendrils with a bright sweep of her horn’s magic.

“Thank you, Princess!” she heard as she pulled back up from her dive, beating her wings briefly to regain altitude, before resuming her patrol.

Luna next swept by Cloudsdale, and observed a young pegasus, front-and-center on the flight school flight line, weeping as her feathers fell out in clumps. Again, the Princess descended, alighting in front of the shaken filly.

“I’m so glad to see you, Princess!” she cried in relief.

Luna nodded, and pale violet plumage reappeared, allowing the relieved flier to resume her dream. Luna lifted off the clouds with a smile, a wave, and a shout: "Best of luck to you, Quick Quill!"

“Oh, Princess!” cried a distraught unicorn as Luna’s shadow passed overhead, en route to Canterlot, “I’ve ruined everything again! Why won’t it stop?!”

Luna descended in a tight spiral, touching down before the weeping stallion, who was standing in deep shadow amid the smoldering wreckage of a burned-out cottage littered with crumbling books, shattered picture frames, and slashed bedding. She leaned forward and touched his horn with her own, soothing him.

“You must move on, Stardust,” she said gently. “You have grown from this experience, and its pain has taught you all it can. Revisiting it every night is simply trapping you in the past. I know whereof I speak!”

"I--I know," Stardust sobbed, "I have to talk to her tomorrow! I have to stop letting this control me!"

Luna nodded sympathetically, then unfurled her wings and rose slowly above the downcast unicorn, her deep indigo form blending into the night sky.

Luna was gliding across Equestria’s dreamscape, seeking the next pony in need of succor, when her eyes fluttered open briefly, then drooped heavily. She fell unbidden into a light slumber. She shook her head to clear the gauzy feeling that had overcome her, and was surprised to find that she was sitting in the midst of a vast, featureless slate-gray plain under a dull white sky.

“What? Where…?” she stammered. Then she realized she had dozed off for a moment and was now beyond her accustomed dreamscape. Who could possibly have opened a path through her realm without her knowing? She scowled and laid her ears back.

“Where are you? Show yourself!”

“My apologies, Princess, but you know I try my best not to be seen in the lands of the living--awake or asleep--if I can help it. The locals consider me bad luck.”

Luna spun and faced a cocoa-brown unicorn stallion. His unkempt, gray-streaked mane swayed slightly as he nodded to her. Coming out of the shallow bow, he raised his head and shifted his right shoulder, adjusting a tattered, black-trimmed white cloak further across his back.

“Reaper,” Luna said. “I have not seen you in a very long time!”

He shrugged: “Well, to be fair, you were rather occupied…”

Luna glared at him.

“Sorry,” he said “that was kind of cheap. And sorry too, for the bland décor. I don’t exactly have your flair for world creation.” He cast his gaze about the empty expanse surrounding them.

“Never mind that, why have you brought me here?” she snorted.

“I need you to come with me and take a look at something. Somepony’s doing my job for me, without my permission, and hiding it pretty well.”

“Somepony’s killing others? How ghastly! But surely you know it as it happens? Aren’t you always present to escort the deceased on beyond this world?”

Reaper shuffled his hooves uncomfortably.

“Yeah, you’d think that, wouldn’t you?”

Luna’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How can this be--you’re Death’s Harbinger! Nopony can leave this life without you giving them passage, just as surely as nopony can dream without my taking note!”

“Uhh, about that…”

Luna tipped her head slightly to one side and raised an eyebrow.

“Meaning…?”

“I think the killer got “behind my back,” if you will, though the victim’s dreams.”

Luna reared back in shock: “Impossible!”

Reaper shrugged apologetically: “I repeat--you’d think that, wouldn’t you? Come on, your Highness, let’s take a little trip to the realm of the impossible. Should be a real eye-opener for both of us. Speaking of…”

Luna snapped awake, back in her chambers, with Reaper standing at the foot of her dais.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“A little village west of Smokey Mountain, right on the seashore.”

“Lead on!”

The room was briefly filled with the dazzling flash of Luna’s departure, then fell dark again. Reaper simply disappeared as though he had never been there.

Why?

Dawn was breaking through the windows of Luna’s chambers as she and Reaper reappeared, startling the Night Guard. The uniformed sentries flared their wings in alarm and fell back from the cloaked form.

“Princess!” the Watch Commander shouted in alarm. “Who is this?! I...I…”

He stumbled back, wide-eyed and panting.

Reaper sighed: “Like I said--‘freak-out’…”

Luna stepped between her subordinate and her guest, and addressed the sweating, trembling guard ponies: “Leave us. I shall be fine, and your presence here would only cause you discomfort.”

They nodded gratefully, and hastily retreated through the chamber entrance.

Luna considered Reaper for a moment.

“I, too, have known ponies’ fear and terror. Does it not bother you?”

Reaper shrugged. “It comes with the job. I understand their fear: all things that live recoil from death--it takes a mighty effort to overcome that base instinct. It’s nothing personal.” He smiled wanly.

Luna took a seat among her cushions, and gestured for Reaper to do likewise.

“I still do not entirely understand. You believe the killer has evaded you all these years by striking the very old or deathly ill at the last moments of their lives, entering through their dreams.”

Reaper nodded.

“And since I was not there, in their dreams, to shield the victims or--failing that--take note of the attacks, the murderer passed through unnoticed, and struck without you being aware, ‘blotting out’ the poor ponies’ very essences.”

Reaper chewed his lower lip. “That’s about the size of it.”

Luna tapped her chin distractedly, staring at the ceiling.

“But I have been back for some time. How has the killer evaded me?” she queried.

“I think he, she, whatever has not killed since your return. Not until last night, at any rate. I think the killer took a chance. It appears they have a spell or artifact that allows them to obscure their presence for the brief time it takes them to slay their victim.”

“Dew Drop,” Luna said quietly. “But why?”

Reaper’s eyebrows arched. “Why what? Why kill? Why now? Why Dew Drop?”

“Yes--yes to it all!” She stamped the floor in anger. The metallic ringing echoed sharply through the sun-washed chamber.

“I was cruel and monstrous as Nightmare Moon, but I never killed! What is the reason for not merely killing, but ‘blotting out,’ as you put it? It is not to spread fear, as I would have done, since nopony has ever known of it until now.”

Reaper turned toward the window and squinted in the shaft of sunlight that was bathing him. He cast no shadow, and the light seemed to simply cease as it touched his cloak.

“Why Dew Drop? is the better question.”

“How can that be the better question?” she demanded impatiently.

“Because she was not at the end of her life through illness or infirmity!” he shouted.

“She was young and wholly unprepared to die--you remarked on the vitality of her dreams yourself. You saw how she had crawled away from the bed, then pissed herself in her final terror! Why take the risk of ripping away the essence from one who will fight enough to leave an echo?”

He pointed at the Princess. “Why take the chance you might spot them, spell or no spell? What’s changed for the killer?”

Luna looked away and took a deep, ragged breath.

She spoke slowly: “I have seen many dark dreams in my time, and have been responsible for many more. Yet I cannot recall anypony harboring a fantasy as bottomless and hopelessly dark as this.”

“Maybe not, but I’m pretty sure you’ve witnessed the results, Princess, fleeting though they may have been. However, I suspect at the time they simply passed as more mere night terrors, hardly worth your notice.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched.

“You mean when I was Nightmare Moon.”

“Exactly: what was one more awful, brief dream about death to you then? Why, many of the dreams may not have even been all that awful, coming as they did to the enfeebled, comatose, and mortally ill.”

“Fine,” Luna spat out, coldly, “let us say that it is so. Why would the killer persist, now that I patrol ponies’ dreams once again?”

“They trust their artifact or spell, and their need is great enough to not only risk a brief incursion through the dreamscape, but great enough to risk my catching wind of it. I keep sticking on that point: why kill the young and vital? Why Dew Drop?”

Luna faced Reaper squarely. “You focus too much on the end, and not enough on the long path the killer took to get to it. Surely they must have left clues during that long journey. Clearly they did, for you have harbored uneasy suspicions for some time, yes?”

He stood up: “Yes, but there was no way to follow-up on those suspicions--until now.”

“What do you mean? How do you propose to unravel centuries of obscured threads?”

“I have memories of all those half-remembered “phantom” ponies who left their echos at the moment of their owners’ deaths. You have memories of all the death dreams of those who died during your thousand years of exile. Somewhere the two must overlap--likely many times!” He took a step forward toward Luna.

She stood uncertainly, and took a tentative step back as Reaper continued to advance.

“What do you intend to do?” she asked hesitantly.

“Princess, you and I need to take a little field trip down Memory Lane…”

Plans

“I do not think I like the sound of this, Reaper.”

Reaper smiled thinly and replied, “Oh, I don’t blame you--I’m not really looking forward to it, either, but you and I each have pieces of this puzzle, buried deep in our pasts, and we need to uncover them.”

Luna circled Reaper warily, her hoof-falls ringing faintly through the empty chamber.

“What do you propose?”

Reaper tipped his head back and took a deep breath.

“We need to enter each other's’ dreams and memories in order to sort this out. We have to compare all the times I recall a “phantom” pony, against your memory of their final dream.”

Luna furrowed her brow and opened her mouth as if to speak, but shut it again suddenly as panic began to show on her face. Reaper cast his eyes downward sympathetically, and waited silently.

At last she spoke: “I cannot! That would mean unlocking the vault of all that I was as Nightmare Moon! It is hard enough for me to maintain the barriers to my past as it is, without willingly journeying there! Are you unaware that I nearly unleashed my Tantabus on the world not long ago? What you propose would dwarf that!”

She began pacing and sweating, eyes darting about her chamber as though looking for an escape.

Reaper nodded and stepped back a pace, giving Luna the space she needed to work out her anxiety.

He replied slowly and gently: “I understand, Princess. But you will not face this alone. I will be with you. It’s what you’ve always dreaded, isn’t it? Having to face yourself and your past alone for fear of involving innocent bystanders. It’s why you keep it bottled-up and shield everypony else from it, even at the cost of near-disaster. You’d rather be consumed by your past than risk anypony else.”

Tears leaked from Luna’s closed eyes and fell glittering on the marble floor.

“Nopony can go there! Even the act of encountering the Tantabus nearly destroyed scores of ponies! Even now, I do not think they know how close they came to ruin!”

She sat down dejectedly on the floor, head hung low. “I am not the pony I once was, it is true, but I was that pony once, and the power she still holds over me is terrible!”

Reaper sat down next to Luna.

“But I am immune to the horrors of your past,” he said, “and Nightmare Moon has no power over me--never did. I can walk through your shadows and take account without stirring up the past. My shade will pass unnoticed through all the ghoulish, dreadful night terrors Nightmare Moon conjured, as though I had always been part of them...because I assume I often was part of them.”

Luna gazed at Reaper’s face for a moment, then was racked with a sudden, gulping sob.

“Of course you were! You were the worst thing I could throw into a pony’s dream when I tired of toying with them! You were the final, all-consuming character I called forth in the awful scenes I created!”

She sank to the floor and wept inconsolably.

Suddenly, Celestia appeared a few feet away, wreathed in a blinding flash.

“Sister!” she cried in alarm, eyes fixed on Luna’s slumped form. “I heard you crying, and I…”

She stopped short and reared back when she caught sight of Reaper out of the corner of her eye. Her front hooves slashed at the air as she hopped backwards.

“Why are you here, Deathbringer? What have you done to my sister?!” Celestia’s ears were pinned back flat, her mane glowed a brilliant blue-white, like a newborn star, and her eyes blazed dangerously as she crouched into an aggressive posture, prepared to defend Luna.

“Whoa! Take it easy, your Highness!” Reaper blurted out, lifting a hoof to shield his eyes from Celestia’s withering radiance. He stepped away from Luna.

“I didn’t do anything to her, other than reopen some admittedly painful, not-so-old wounds!”

Luna lifted her tear-streaked face from the floor and, choking back her sobs, spoke to Celestia: “He speaks the truth. He has done me no harm, but his words have stirred my pain and terror anew!”

She rose unsteadily from the floor and stood shaking, between her sister and Reaper. Heat shimmers still rose from Celestia’s coat, and Reaper took another step back, bumping into a potted plant.

“What are you doing here?” Celestia again demanded.

“I’ve discovered a dangerous situation that requires your sister’s help. Somepony, or creature or monster--still not sure, really--has been slaying ponies for years without my being aware of it.” He skirted around the gilded planter, and positioned the small tree it contained between himself and the glowing Sun Princess.

“So?” snapped Celestia. “That sounds like a “you” problem--why try to bring my sister into it? She had nothing to do with it, I’m sure! Her dark days are behind her, and even at her darkest she never took a life! Why drag her into this?”

Luna stumbled back to her cushions while Reaper addressed Celestia: “No, I’m not saying she bears any responsibility, but she has knowledge of all the dreams that have ever been, even as Nightmare Moon. I have to work my way through that history in order to find the killer--or at least clues to the killer.”

Celestia narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but the intense glow from her coat dimmed, and her mane took on a more pastel hue.

“If the killer’s been doing their work without you knowing it, then how will going back through Luna’s old memories help? You still won’t know who you’re looking for!”

Luna raised her head and answered haltingly, the words catching in her throat: “He has memories of his own--taken at, at the last mo- moments of a pony’s life. Images and echoes of their final...final…”

She began to weep again. “Poor Dew Drop! We have to stop who or whatever is do, do, doing...oh, Sister help me!”

Celestia turned away from Reaper and rushed to Luna’s side, helping her back down to the cushions.

“Dew Drop?” she asked Reaper.

“The latest victim. The killer’s not just taking the old, infirm, enfeebled, or terminal anymore.”

Reaper stepped out from behind the smoldering plant and adjusted his cloak.

“The killer struck at a young earth pony on the west coast, south of Vanhoofer, just last night. And by “struck” I mean blotted out. Destroyed. There was no essence for me to take beyond the world. I caught an echo of her last moment, but even then it took hours to track it down. We don’t have that kind of time when the killer strikes next.”

“But what has Luna to do with this?” Celestia asked, looking down at Luna, gently stroking her flowing, faintly-glittering blue mane.

Luna looked up into her sister’s violet eyes, tears still dripping from her cheeks. “The victims are slain from within their dreams. This last time the killer must have been able to ever-so-briefly obscure themself as he struck. But in the past--Reaper, you are quite right--I hardly would have noticed one more murderous apparition terrorizing a pony.”

Celestia furrowed her brow in thought. “But you would have noticed, even if just hardly--you don’t miss a thing in the dreamscape.” She turned away from Luna absently, and began to pace.

“So how would you discover what you need?” Celestia asked.

Reaper sucked air in through his teeth. “Well, you see, that’s the source of Luna’s anguish. We’re going to have to enter her memories, and mine, and compare those last images I recall with her record of who and what passed through ponies’ dreams.”

Luna raised her head and nodded. “We should be able to cross-check each other’s images, like holding two overlapped drawings up to the light, until we make a match.”

“Or matches,” Reaper interjected absently, peering up into the vaulted ceiling at a pair of little, shiny black eyes. “I’m afraid we’re going to find scores. And that raises yet another problem.”

“What?” asked Celestia.

Reaper stared up at the eyes.

“Hmm? What what?” he responded.

“What problem?” Celestia replied impatiently.

“Oh, right--I’m not sure we’re really going to be in a note-taking mood while we’re in each other’s memories. I’m wondering how we can keep track of the better part of a thousand years of information. I’m sure we’ll know the matching memories when we see them, but we have to be able to gather up the fragments.”

The glittering eyes disappeared, accompanied by a faint scrabbling sound.

Celestia pondered for a moment, then spoke: “I know a pony who has a mind for lists and data and cross-referencing and whatever else you might need.”

Luna’s ears pricked up. “Sister! You cannot mean Twilight?”

“Can you think of anypony better suited to note-taking?” Celestia replied.

Reaper tipped his head slightly. “Twilight? Oh, right: the most-recent princess. Kinda young for this sort of thing, isn’t she?”

Celestia’s tail flicked. “I would trust--have trusted--Twilight with any task! My concern is not that she can’t do the job, but that she shouldn’t!”

“Well, Princess,” retorted Reaper “that might just leave you, then. I’m not sure anypony else can stand to be in my presence for the time this operation’s going to take. To be honest, I doubt Twilight will!”

Celestia wrinkled her nose and blinked twice. “I can’t...I just can’t be near you that long. The darkness that hovers just outside my senses, you absorbing my power just by standing there--it makes me so...uncomfortable! It’s all I can do to stay in this room now...” She shuddered slightly, and narrowed her eyes at Reaper. “And, well, never mind.”

Luna stood and summoned a piece of parchment and quill from a nearby end table. She wrote a brief note, and levitated it front of her sister.

Celestia glanced at the note, sighed, and nodded. Her horn glowed for a moment, and the parchment disappeared.

“So how long will it take before she gets here?” queried Reaper, as he refocused his attention on the shadowy ceiling again. “She’s in Ponyville, yes? It’ll be hours if she takes the train! Is she a strong flyer?”

Celestia glared at Reaper, closed her eyes and dipped her horn toward the floor, conjuring a sudden white flash.

Is Everypony Ready?

Twilight Sparkle burst through through the gap in the air caused by Celestia’s summoning spell, wings caught in mid-beat, and skidded across the smooth floor into a large cushion.

Luna rocked back in alarm, and levitated the cushion off the startled purple alicorn.

Twilight struggled to her feet, shaking her mane from her eyes, and exclaimed “What was that?! Did you teleport me here, Princess?” She glanced up at Luna, who shook her head.

“No--it was my sister. Our need is great, and we did not want to wait for you to arrive by more conventional means.” She rose to her full height and moved past Twilight, toward Celestia.

Twilight furrowed her brow and turned to face her mentor, but her intended words of greeting died on her lips. Her eyes widened and her mouth went dry. She staggered backwards a step and pointed at Reaper.

She shook violently for a moment, and laid her ears flat along the sides of her head: “Wha- what is that?!”

Celestia took a deep breath and stepped forward toward her terrified protégé, sympathy showing on her face.

“Princess Twilight, allow me to introduce Reaper. He is the reason we have called you here.”

Twilight’s eyes darted frantically left and right as she sought an escape route. A roaring filled her ears, and a dark veil seemed to descend before her eyes. She wobbled and fell sideways.

Luna rushed forward and stopped Twilight’s descent with her magic: “I believe poor Twilight may have misinterpreted your words, sister!”

Reaper shrugged and agreed: “Kind of made it sound like you brought her here as a sacrifice! I hope she stiffens up a bit once she comes to, again, or this isn’t going to work.”

Celestia brushed Twilight’s mane from her eyes, and slipped a golden-shod hoof under the stunned pony’s chin.

“Twilight, it’s fine! Nopony’s going to hurt you. Wake up--come back to us, please!”

Luna filled a chased silver goblet with pale, strong cider and pressed it lightly against Twilight’s lips.

Twilight sputtered and sipped; her eyes fluttered open, though they struggled to focus. She took a long draught of the cider, and found her legs, pushing back against Luna’s restraining field.

“I can stand, Princess Luna, thank you!” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and shook her head.

She turned to Celestia: “I don’t understand! “Reaper?” What is that...thing?” She caught sight of the looming cloaked form, and shrank back against Luna.

Reaper cleared his throat: “I am the harbinger and agent of death. I take the spirits of ponies beyond this world at the end of their time here. I mean you no harm, though I completely understand that you’re finding it very hard to believe that. I almost never encounter the living for just this reason.”

Twilight nodded weakly. She licked her lips and spoke unsteadily: “I believe you--or I want to believe you, since the Princesses say it’s OK. But...but...why am I here?”

Luna stepped away from Twilight, circled back beside her sister, and replied: “Reaper and I must journey beyond this waking world, into the realms of long-past dreams, and dying memories. We need your help to do this, Twilight.”

Twilight’s breathing became shallow and rapid, making her voice thin and high-pitched: “Me?! How can I help? What can I do that Luna can’t?” She began to tremble again, but kept her eyes firmly focused on Reaper.

“You can stay with them as they travel, disembodied, into Luna’s dreams, and into Reaper’s memories,” Celestia explained. “They are looking for somepony or something that’s been killing ponies for hundreds of years!”

“Killing ponies?!” Twilight gasped. “That’s awful! What will I do?”

Reaper moved forward, closing the distance between himself and Twilight to just a few feet.

“You’re going to take notes as we pass in and out of these dreams. Luna will be asleep, at least asleep as far you ponies experience it, while I drift in and out of a sort of trance. I don’t sleep in any sort of sense you’d understand.”

“N- notes?” stammered Twilight, shying away slowly, trying to reopen the gap between her and Reaper.

“Yes,” he replied, “notes. I will pass in and out of this plane, and as I do so I will pass on the images and impressions we uncover. You will need to record these impressions so we can examine them for patterns after we return.”

Twilight tipped her head uncertainly.

“Pass on the images?” she repeated, frowning. “Like, you’ll tell me things and I’ll write them down?”

Reaper ground his teeth for a moment before answering: “Not exactly. I will speak a word or two as I make contact with this reality again, but that will merely be to catch your attention and ready you to receive my, um, data.”

“Data?” Twilight responded uneasily. “What does that mean?”

Reaper rubbed his muzzle, and sighed. “Let me show you…”

He stepped forward swiftly, closing the final few feet between himself and the young Princess before she could react, and touched his horn to hers. Their eyes locked together--deep brown and violet--widening until he gazed not merely into, but through her eyes, through her flesh, through the seething, vibrating molecules that made up her living frame, beyond her life, to the end of another’s.

She was overcome by the scent of strawberries, cloying and confusing, then the world opened beneath her hooves--a vast, bottomless chasm, filled not just with darkness, but an actual negation of light, blotting out even Celestia’s radiance. Twilight’s breathing stopped entirely, and the room fell utterly silent, as though she was in the vacuum of space. A thin trickle of urine ran down the back of her left leg, spattering the floor around her hind hooves.

Twilight retched violently, and staggered backwards, tears streaming from her sightless eyes, pawing furiously at the empty air, fighting to regain her life, to tear herself away from the yawning gulf that had consumed Dew Drop.

Reaper looked down at the floor where Twilight had stood, and cocked an eyebrow at the shimmering puddle that remained.

He turned to Celestia: “I don’t know Princess--if she really is the best you can find, I’m afraid you’re going to have to do the job yourself, no matter how much it pains you.”

Celestia frowned and chewed her lip. “You may be right. This just may be too much for her!”

Twilight spoke, voice cracking, cheeks flushed with embarrassment: “No, wait! I was able to absorb and keep your power, Princess, and Luna’s and Cadance’s too, no matter how much it hurt! And I remember the moment I became an alicorn--it seemed to last an eternity! I felt as though all my skin and flesh had been stripped away, and I was alone in an empty universe. I was terrified! But I made it through those tests. I’ve never faced a test I couldn’t pass!”

She wobbled uncertainly toward the low table where Luna had placed the cider.

“Who was that?” she asked Reaper as she refilled the goblet. “Who did I feel or sense or whatever that was?”

“That was Dew Drop,” he replied, “a young earth pony, just a bit older than you, who met her end last night--killed by an unknown assailant of apparently great power.”

“Do you know why?”

“No. Her essence was eliminated, destroyed, absorbed--something. If I knew her fate, I might be able to suss out a motive. But whatever the reason, it was done quickly and almost without a trace. And if I’m right, and this has been going on intermittently for centuries--it’s not just some random act.”

“You suspect a plan?” Twilight wondered.

“Maybe,” replied Reaper. “Again, we don’t have nearly enough to go on, at this point. Luna and I need to go inside our shared pasts and get that evidence!”

Luna nodded and walked toward Reaper: “How shall we begin?”

He pursed his lips and grunted. “Hmpf. It probably makes the most sense to start with my memories, first--they’re likely to be more linear than yours, and it may give you a chance to feel a bit more at-ease before we journey into your past.”

Luna took a deep breath. “If we must do this, let it be done swiftly! Where shall we recline?” She levitated a pile of cushions and pillows, awaiting Reaper’s response.

He looked about the room, his eyes falling on the shaft of sunlight spilling across the floor.

“I’m guessing we’re going to need several hours of real time to do this, so if we sit here, I’ll be in sunlight for most of the time.”

Luna dropped the pillows where Reaper had indicated, then stood aside uneasily.

Twilight downed the remaining cider in the goblet, and cocked her head quizzically. “What do you mean by “real time?” And why do you need to sit in the sun?”

“I’m not a pony, so I don’t eat, but I’m not a pure, incorporeal spirit either. I absorb energy--sunlight, the background life energy of plants and creatures around me, any source of energy, really. It’s the number one reason Celestia can’t stand to be around me.”

He glanced back over his shoulder at Celestia as he joined Luna, and continued: “If she can feel me absorbing her energy, even just a tiny bit, it causes a visceral reaction.”

Celestia shifted uncomfortably, and responded: “That’s true. But I will be right outside the entryway if you need me, Twilight--just shout!”

“Now, you will be sitting next to me, Twilight,” Reaper said, nodding to a nearby cushion, “but you won’t feel any effect from it. Do be sure not to touch me, though. It’s an old myth that touching me brings death, but given enough contact, you’d become weak, fatigued and sick.”

He pondered for a moment: “I suppose you might eventually die from the contact…”

Twilight whimpered in alarm: “Won’t we have to touch horns again?”

Reaper smiled: “No, Twilight. We’ve made all the contact I need to establish a connection going forward. There’s no need for us to touch again.”

She sighed in relief.

“How about you, Luna?” Reaper said, turning his head from Twilight back to his soon-to-be partner. “You think you can stomach a few weeks (or more) in my presence?”

Luna nodded solemnly. “I know you have little effect on me, and given that my failings for the last thousand years have helped this killer prey on those who should have trusted me…”

Reaper cut her off: “That’s enough of that! You can’t think that way going in--you need a clear head, unclouded by remorse. You’re going to get knocked around enough during this journey without adding to the blows! Now let’s get…”

Twilight interrupted: “Excuse me--weeks? Months? I thought you said “hours!””

Luna smiled. “Not weeks or months to you here in the real world, just in the dreamscape. Time there stretches on far longer than it will here.”

Reaper concurred: “Right, but it will still take a while--several real hours, at least. And even though I won’t touch you physically, I will touch your mind, and that alone will be quite fatiguing.”

Twilight took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Whatever I can do to help stop anypony else from meeting poor Dew Drop’s end, I will!”

“That makes three of us,” Reaper replied. “So let’s settle in and get this over with.” Reaper untied the cord holding his sword to his hip, and set the sheathed blade to one side. He tucked his legs beneath his body, and sank to the floor next to Luna, as Twilight rubbed a towel across her backside, and arranged her cushions and the small, low table containing parchment and a quill.

Taking advantage of Twilight’s distraction, Luna leaned in close to Reaper and asked quietly, “will Twilight really be unharmed by this? She will likely see terrible things!”

Reaper nodded: “We just have to hope she’s as strong as she believes herself to be. We can both help shield her a bit, but…” He shrugged.

Luna nodded silently, and released a thin, silvery tendril from her horn. It touched Reaper’s forehead, and his eyes slowly closed.

Golden Leaf and Firebrand

“Welcome back to my “Waiting Room,” as I call it…”

Luna’s blue-green eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the dimly-lit, blank, grey expanse stretched before her.

“Where shall we begin?” she asked, turning to face her companion.

“Well, let’s think for a moment: other than Dew Drop, we don’t have any evidence of the killer striking since your return a couple of years ago. So I suppose we need to reach back at least that far.”

He stared up at the featureless white sky and muttered to himself for a few seconds.

“Alright--Golden Leaf. Here we go…”

A doorway appeared a few feet in front of Luna. She stepped toward it, and it swung open silently. Reaper followed close behind.

An old, pale blue mare lay on a bed, surrounded by the blurry faces of other ponies, hovering just out of reach. Sounds of crying came from several directions, and Golden Leaf struggled to speak.

“It’s OK, little one--it’s my time to go. I’ll miss you all terribly…” Her breath came in ragged gasps, and everything suddenly stood out in stark relief, as though caught in a flash of lightning.

The faces became crystal clear, and Golden Leaf sat up, smiling.

“I’m glad I got to see you all one last time, Racer, Glimmer, Firebrand…”

Her cloudy hazel eyes grew wide as Reaper stepped to her side.

“Off we go, now, Golden Leaf.” He touched his horn to her forehead, and the faces dimmed and resolved back into those of her bedside family.

Her body went limp, and faded slightly as Reaper simply dissolved as though made of smoke.

The ponies’ weeping faded to a whisper as the door closed directly in Luna’s face.

“So,” Reaper began, “did you get a good look at the ponies she remembered at the last moment?”

“Racer, Glimmer and Firebrand, she named them,” replied Luna. “Yes--I saw.”

Reaper chewed his lip briefly, and stared into the distance. “I don’t know who “Firebrand” was. And as that final vision faded, his face became the face of Golden Leaf’s son. Maybe it was a nickname? Maybe she was mis-remembering?”

He continued as Luna closed her eyes and furrowed her brow.

“Racer died about 20 years ago--mining accident. Glimmer died about 5 years ago of old age. Golden Leaf clearly recalled all three as youths or young adults, so Firebrand could fall anywhere in the last 70 years, if he existed at all.”

Luna brought a hoof up to her muzzle and tapped her lower lip.

“This was a true vision,” she said at last. “Firebrand did indeed live. I recall the dreams…”

“When do you last remember a dream of his?”

“It is hard to pin down. I was often distracted as Nightmare Moon, and took little note of dreams in which I was not, shall we say, active.”

“So, no nightmares for him?” Reaper asked, skeptically.

Luna’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, I’m sure there were. Give me a moment to think.”

She chewed lightly at the inside of her cheek and stared at the ground. She snapped back up to full height.

“Come,” she said coldly, “let us see what visions I can conjure!”

The featureless grey and white world around them was shrouded in a swirl of blue-black smoke. When the smoke cleared, they were standing in the great hall of a long-ruined castle.

Reaper looked around, and rolled his eyes. “Really,” he said archly, “your old, broken-down castle?” This is where you come to “get away from it all”--the ruins of your past?”

She glared at him and spoke sharply: “where better than here to sift through Nightmare Moon’s ruins, and the ruin she wrought on others?”

Reaper shrugged. “I suppose. So now what?”

Luna nodded toward a long, tattered banner hanging from a high arch: “Watch.”

Images flickered across the surface of the banner, as though cast by an antique projector. Firebrand’s face and form flitted in and out, accompanied by other ponies, in a multitude of places and times.

“How will we know where the end is?” Reaper asked, squinting intently at the rapid unwinding of Firebrand’s dream history, looking for clues of violence.

“We must step in, Harbinger. Only from the inside will I be able to unravel this tangle of threads.”

Reaper and Luna appeared suddenly through a pale rift torn in mid-air, just outside an arena. The sounds of cheering could be heard.

Both ponies looked around, searching for clues as to location and time, and to see if they could spot Firebrand. The cheers grew louder. Luna and Reaper trotted toward the arena.

As they entered through a low entryway, Luna cried out, “there he is!” and pointed above the arena, where a brick-red pegasus was flying loops and rolls through a series of flaming hoops.

“Firebrand, I assume…” Reaper said, stepping through the passage and toward the front of the grandstand.

“Well, we have the right pony, but not the right time. This isn’t his death, nor does it appear to be a nightmare.”

Luna agreed: “Indeed, this seems to be a fantasy of pure joy and perfection. We will have to skip forward a bit…” She closed her eyes tightly and lifted her horn toward Firebrand’s streaking form.

As the world swirled and rushed by, Reaper’s head swam, and he stumbled sideways a bit.

Now Firebrand was descending rapidly from a cloud of flame and smoke and debris, which seemed to be taking on the form of some sort of tentacled monster. He cried out as the ground rushed up at him suddenly, and he lost control, unable to check his descent. He smashed into the earth with a sickening thud as the flaming debris monster engulfed him, choking out his screams.

A pale, silvery moon rose in the background.

Firebrand lay on the ground, broken, scorched and bleeding. “Celestia, help me!” He cried out weakly.

The moon laughed; Luna stared silently, tears welling in her eyes.

The world suddenly flashed by again, blurring years of dreams and fears, until it stopped again.

Reaper had kept his eyes closed this time, and was less disoriented, as he scanned the new scene. He and Luna were on a beach, palm trees gently swaying, Firebrand, old and scarred, was slumped nearby in a wheelchair.

A nurse pony cantered up to him and kissed him on the forehead. “Can I bring you anything else, Firebrand?” she asked.

Reaper perked up his ears. “Is that Golden Leaf?” he asked.

“It would seem so,” replied Luna, “re-purposed in this dream as a nurse.”

Nurse Golden Leaf slid around behind Firebrand’s wheelchair and began to nibble on his right ear.

“The doctor says you can walk, now. Why won’t you walk?” She whispered into his ear.

Reaper and Luna moved in a bit closer in order to hear Golden Leaf’s low tones.

“You know I can’t walk, Goldie! Don’t give me that shit! I’m lucky I can still breathe after all these years trapped in a wheelchair, stuck on ventilators, jabbed full of needles!” shouted Firebrand.

“I should have died in that building! I’d have gone out a hero, not a fucking basket case!”

“All the ponies you saved owe you their lives,” replied Nurse Golden Leaf. “They are all extremely grateful!” She moved from his side and stepped in front of the wheelchair.

She turned her back to Firebrand, and sidled backwards a pace, hiking her pleated white skirt over her back, and raising her tail. She looked back over her shoulder into his eyes.

“Let me show you how grateful we all are…”

She swished her tail in his face, fanning him with her intoxicating, musky scent.

She took a half step forward and dipped her shoulders down, elevating her rump.

“All you have to do is walk…”

Reaper raised an eyebrow. “You sure we’re at the end, here Luna? Doesn’t really look much like a nightmare!”

Luna choked back a cry of anguish and directed Reaper’s gaze to the moon which had just appeared above the beach.

“It will, Reaper, it will!” she cried as dark clouds suddenly rose above the shoreline.

Firebrand had pulled himself up out the chair, and was mounting Golden Leaf, eyes closed in ecstasy, scars falling away, healthy lungs filling again with cool sea air, shattered wings rising majestically above his thrusting form.

“Oh, Blessed Night, why?!” Luna screamed as she dashed away, down the beach, tears streaming from her eyes.

Reaper furrowed his brow and started to walk toward toward Luna.

She shouted back over her shoulder, almost incoherently, “NO! You must watch, for I cannot!!”

He noticed the clouds were suddenly collapsing over the scene, just as the fiery debris had done earlier. He glanced quickly at the coupled shape of Firebrand and Golden Leaf, and saw the mare’s features suddenly twist, and darken. Her coat turned bluish-black, and a dark, shining horn emerged from her forehead. Her eyes blazed sadistically with a blinding radiance, and she laughed as Firebrand gasped in horror and lurched backward, sprawling on the sand.

Nightmare Moon shook her rump playfully at Firebrand and smirked. “Thank you for the ride, cripple! Now enjoy your “happy ending!””

She shot into the air just as the cloud collapsed like a wall of infinite blackness, blotting out everything, swallowing Firebrand’s screams, Nightmare Moon’s harsh laughter, and Luna’s distant sobs.

Reaper swam desperately through the maelstrom of blackness, trying to get a bead on its source. His sword sprang from its scabbard, slashing the darkness, cleaving brief, pale openings, but to no avail. As quickly as the cloud wall had thundered down, it was gone, as was Firebrand, and a moment later, the dream itself.

“Shit.”

Reaper sat alone in the pitch black, waiting for the ruined castle to reassemble around him.

No Deal

Twilight had just settled comfortably, when she felt the hair raise up along her spine. She shuddered.

“B-back so soon?” she stammered as Reaper’s form came into sharper focus, and his eyes slowly opened.

“Well,” he replied, “Luna’s kind of “gone missing,” so I figured I’d take the opportunity to touch base with you, and give you our first “report,” as it were.”

“So did you find out anything useful?” asked Twilight.

“Yeah--I learned Luna still has a lot of issues to work out!”

Twilight scowled.

“Ah, never mind. Anyway…” he shifted and looked directly into Twilight’s dilating pupils. “Let me transfer the memories of my past few experiences to you. These will encompass the death vision of the earth pony, Golden Leaf, and the final nightmare of pegasus Firebrand.”

“F-final nightmare? Did you get a look at the killer, like you hoped?”

“No. And “hoped” is a good word, here. I hoped for a quick strike, but didn’t really expect one. Still, it was useful. Now, empty your mind, and let my memories become yours.” He leaned forward slightly.

A series of emotions rapidly played across Twilight’s face: pity, confusion, hope, embarrassment, and abject horror. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.

“How terrible!” she blurted out as Reaper closed his eyes and leaned back. “Poor Firebrand! Is Luna OK?”

Reaper glanced over at Luna’s slumbering form. “Kind of hard to tell from here. When I shift back into the dreamscape, I hope I don’t find myself sitting on a single cracked flagstone from the ruins of her old castle, suspended in nothingness, again!”

His eyes rolled upward and crossed, focusing above his forehead.

“Well, the thread is still there, so she must be somewhere in the dreamscape.” He sighed. “Guess I’d better go find her. See you soon!”

With that he closed his eyes, and faded slightly, as though he were an old, sun-bleached photograph.

Twilight took a deep breath and slumped forward with a relieved sigh.

She turned to the small table, levitated a quill and jotted down a few notes, paying particular attention to Reaper’s recollection of the final crushing darkness that ended Firebrand’s fatal nightmare.

She looked intently at Luna’s lined face. “Please be OK, Luna!” she whispered.

Reaper reemerged into the emptiness he had left minutes before, suspended in an inky void.

He shook his head sadly. “Not now, Princess!” he shouted into the void. “We have business to attend to! I know what you saw really tore into you, but we need to keep going--we don’t have enough information. All Firebrand did was back-up what little I already knew from Dew Drop’s death.”

“No!” Luna yelled from the darkness, her voice cracking. “Firebrand showed me that I should have been destroyed, not exiled! I remember everything about that scene, now, in lurid, burning detail!

“Yes, I understand,” Reaper replied, “but as you pointed out, you’re no longer that pony--you’ve been redeemed, and shown yourself worthy of love and trust more than once!” He strained his eyes, trying to pierce the darkness, and catch a glimpse of Luna.

Luna dropped down out of the darkness, and another weathered flagstone appeared beneath her hooves, hovering a few yards from Reaper.

She confronted him, eyes wide with anguish: “I know that you, too, were feared, but…”

He cut her off archly, “am feared, and frequently loathed, thank you very much!”

“But,“ she continued, “you are not reviled and remembered for wanton, capricious cruelty, such as that which I inflicted on Firebrand! That was but a few years ago, and I can still remember it vividly! I thought it would be such a lark to let him take me as he would any other mare, then reveal myself at the moment of his greatest ecstasy, destroying his last happy memory of life before being swallowed by death!”

She squeezed her eyes tightly, tears running down her cheeks, jaw clenched to stop its trembling.

Reaper nodded: “Yeah, that was pretty shitty, I’ll grant you…”

Luna’s eyes snapped open and blazed with anger. She began to speak.

“But,” Reaper interjected before she could cut him off, “at least you had cause to be reviled and accused of cruelty--which, may I remind you, is no longer the case. Come with me--I’ve found our next subject, and I believe she may help prove my point…”

Luna ground her teeth, but acquiesced: “Fine. Where or when are we bound this time?”

“First things first…” Reaper dipped his horn low, and the flagstone on which he was standing expanded in all directions, rushing off to infinity. The space around the two ponies became brighter grey, then washed out to a pale white, all-suffusing glow.

“Ah, home sweet home,” snarked Luna. “And you have the temerity to criticize my astral refuge!”

Reaper grinned: “Like I said, world-building isn't my forte!” He gestured behind Luna: “Pick a door.”

She looked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes: “Given there is but one door, your offer of a choice seems pointless.”

“Yeah, giving options isn’t a real strength of mine, either. Case in point…” The door swung open, and Luna found herself standing on a riverbank, swollen flood waters swirling dangerously all around. She started, and took to the air, hovering above the wreckage of a raft.

“Please help me! Anypony!” cried an old stallion, sprawled across the crumbling planks and poles. Luna squinted through the lashing rain, and saw that the elderly unicorn wasn’t the impending victim--a smaller, younger unicorn was.

She was clinging to the edge of what remained of the raft, which was being swept into the center of the debris-filled river. The older unicorn was reaching for her hooves.

Luna resisted the urge to swoop down, knowing the scene to be just a vision, and hovered helplessly above.

“Celestia, please! Anypony! Don’t let my daughter die! I’m old--take me! Spare her! I’ll do anything!” shouted the old stallion into the teeth of the storm.

Reaper walked calmly across the raging water, and shook his head sadly: “Sorry, old-timer--it doesn’t work like that.”

The stallion’s ears perked up for a moment: “Please!” He pleaded, looking about wildly, “anything--just save Snow Sprite!”

Reaper sighed and stepped toward the front of the crumbling craft as the old pony’s daughter slipped from its edge, screaming and choking on the brown waters rushing over her head.

Moments later there was a tearing crash as the jumble of wood and canvas rammed into a half-submerged tree, pinning the young mare with a crunch. Her eyes flew open, and blood spurted from her mouth.

Luna leaned it, horrified but fascinated as images of places and ponies flickered by before the mare’s sightless, ice-blue eyes.

Blood sputtered from between her lips: “Haymaker...help. Dad? Is that...love...you. Haymake--”

Her head flopped back as the river pulled her broken, ivory-white body free of the tangled wood, and sucked it under. Reaper dipped his head below the churning foam for a moment, then reemerged.

The doorway reappeared and collapsed around the scene, leaving Snow Sprite’s father’s cries ringing in Luna’s ears as she dropped back on the endless gray expanse of Reaper’s chamber.

Luna blinked away a tear, and opened her eyes to find Reaper standing before her.

“How awful to see your child killed mere feet away!” Luna exclaimed.

Reaper nodded. “And to make it worse, old Woody died some days later of his injuries, cursing fate--i.e. me--for the loss of Snow Sprite.”

Luna furrowed her brow: “Did he actually hear you when you spoke?”

“It’s never entirely clear. I do make an impression on most ponies, at the moment of death, and occasionally others may also sense me.”

Reaper sat down next to Luna.

He looked at Luna, who was still lost in her thoughts. “So,” he began, ”what about this “Haymaker?” Real, or not? I’ve accounted for the other images that flitted by, and “Dad” is obvious.”

Luna took a deep breath. ”I am loath to venture back into the dreamscape again, so soon.”

Reaper’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth.

Luna raised a hoof in front of his face before he could speak: “However, I realize how vital this is, and so must do my part!”

Reaper shut his mouth and nodded.

Luna closed her eyes and began to breath softly but deeply.

“I believe she meant Mister Haymaker, an old teacher of hers from when she was a filly. He seems to fit the image I saw at the last moment, and I believe I know the source of many earlier dreams.”

She stood and steeled herself: “Let’s go.”

Haymaker

Luna was already facing the banner, generating flickering images as Reaper appeared, facing away, looking down the long, dark vaulted hall, focusing on the trailing ivy and broken masonry littering the floor.

“Reaper!” Luna called, her voice echoing in the emptiness. “I have recalled earlier dreams of Snow Sprite. I am convinced Mister Haymaker is our quarry.”

Reaper turned back and walked to Luna’s side: “Show me.”

The flashing pictures stopped, focusing on a small town street at dusk. A pale yellow earth pony stallion walked into view. Reaper nodded.

“After you, your Highness,” Reaper said, sweeping low in a bow, raising a hoof toward the banner.

Luna rolled her eyes, and floated up and through the banner. Reaper followed a moment later.

They appeared in the street behind Haymaker’s shade, and followed him as he walked toward a blank, windowless, brick-faced building. A second pony joined him.

“Haymaker,” said the older dark-gray mare, pointing toward the dark, featureless facade “the new school won’t be approved by the town council if we can’t find more funds.” Haymaker walked up the steps of the building and touched the facade; a black door appeared.

Luna concentrated for a moment and the world blurred by, as it had when they had visited Firebrand’s dream. Reaper was ready this time, and oriented himself quickly when the new scene snapped into focus.

They were on the same street, years later, viewing the aftermath of some great storm which had passed just minutes before. The area was strewn with fallen lampposts and pieces of roofing, shutters and branches, and blocks of shattered masonry. The sky was still low and turbulent, threatening further rain. Ponies were calling out in pain and fear.

“Did we miss something? Are we too late?” queried Reaper, looking around for further violence.

“No. This is a true-source vision of Haymaker’s which would be played out several times over the coming years.” Luna replied.

Reaper furrowed his brow and nodded. “That’s right--I remember this storm. Killed two ponies over behind the school. Collapsed wall.”

“Yes,” Luna concurred. “That, too, plays out in dreams to come.”

The scene blurred as the years rushed by, light and dark, indistinct shapes and sounds blending together. The shifting vision stopped abruptly.

Reaper braced as howling winds suddenly ripped at his cloak, and threatened to topple him.

“Crap! What an entrance!” he shouted over the din.

“Look to your left,” cried Luna, pointing at the back wall of the school, sheltering three foals and Haymaker from the lashing rain and wind.

Reaper squinted: “that must be Snow Sprite!” he yelled, pointing to a small, ivory-white unicorn, huddled against Haymaker.

Luna nodded numbly and dropped her head as a sudden gust of wind tore away part of the wall, and sent a crack running down its full length.

Reaper dug in his hooves as he felt the air pressure lessen, and heard the whistle of the wind shift to a locomotive-like roar. He peered about, trying to catch any detail that might be obscured by the maelstrom.

He only caught a glimpse of the moon, high above the wrack, at the last moment, before the whole scene was nearly blotted out by the touchdown of an unimaginably huge funnel cloud, not a hundred yards away.

The foals screamed, and Haymaker flattened his body over theirs in an attempt to pin them to the ground. But the ground itself started to tear away before he could settle in, lifting up in huge chunks.

One of the foals was yanked free from Haymaker’s grasp and pulled wailing into the swirling void. A second was ripped to shreds by shards of flying glass, spattering Haymaker and Snow Sprite with blood.

Snow Sprite cried out in terror and clung to Haymaker’s neck in desperation: “Don’t let me go! Save me Mr. Haymaker! Save--”

A large, jagged fragment of masonry tore free from the wall above and smashed between Haymaker and Snow Sprite, shattering the filly’s skull, and sending her ruined body spinning off into the utterly black funnel, now directly above the disintegrating wall.

Haymaker screamed in horror: “Please let me save them!!”

Luna sat motionless in the background, sobbing quietly, as Nightmare Moon’s harsh voice cut through the tumult: “Them? Not this time! You cannot even save yourself!”

Reaper sensed that the ultimate moment had arrived, and tried to dash forward into the heart of the scene, but the inescapable blackness of the tornado sucked away all light and air and earth, as what remained of the wall slammed downward onto the old stallion’s upturned, tear-streaked face.

“Strike two…” Reaper muttered from the tangle of his own cloak, as the gruesome vision faded out.

Something Familiar

Slowly the ruins of the castle coalesced around Reaper and Luna, as she struggled to stifle her cries and regain her composure.

“Well,” Reaper said, “a variation on a theme, but the same result: the impenetrable darkness descends too rapidly for me to sense its source.” He poked at a shard of stained glass in front of his left hoof.

“How long has this been going on, do you suppose?” Luna asked, wiping tears away.

Reaper glared at the glittering glass fragment: “I don’t know--a very long time, I suspect. Likely all the way back to when you were first Nightmare Moon, I would think. It seems to have provided the killer the perfect cover: sudden darkness beyond the darkness of a typical nightmare, but by the time the victim notices, it’s too late.”

Luna shifted uncomfortably. “I am not unfamiliar with that darkness.”

Reaper looked up sharply and caught her eye: “What do you mean?”

“That darkness that almost feels, well, alive? It has occurred sporadically over the centuries,” Luna said, softly.

“How “sporadically?”” wondered Reaper, standing now and walking toward Luna.

“More often than just these fatal nightmares, and more frequently over the last century, or so.”

Reaper chewed his lip and continued to look intently at Luna.

“Can you recall the first time you detected it?” he asked.

She furrowed her brow: “I will have to ponder that for a time. There are so many dreams over so many centuries, and so many of them blur together.”

Reaper sighed and dropped his head slightly.

“Alright. I tell you what: I need to go back to the real world and debrief Twilight for a bit. You sit here and gather your thoughts. We both need you to keep it together the next time we get into one of these terminal nightmares. I can’t perceive through the dense shadow stuff that the killer throws in at the last moment, but I strongly suspect you can!”

Luna took a deep breath. “Yes, fine. You may leave me here to sort through my memories,” she said softly.

Reaper stood; his horn began to glow as he prepared to leave the dreamscape.

“But,” Luna said a little more loudly, “please don’t take too long.”

Reaper nodded, then faded out. The shadows deepened.

Luna’s eyes shone with pain: “Don’t leave me here with my memories…”

Twilight was looking intently at Reaper’s cutie mark when she noticed that he had become more “real” again.

“S-so what did you learn this time?” she stammered, glancing away.

Reaper smiled: “You still haven’t quite gotten used to being this close, have you?”

Twilight shook her head and swallowed. “No,” she said, “but it get a little easier each time.”

Reaper chuckled: “Good kid!”

Twilight smiled gamely and shifted her position so she could look Reaper in the eyes.

Reaper leaned close and locked his gaze on Twilight’s shimmering eyes: “Here we go…”

Twilight’s lip quivered and she gasped loudly and tried to look away. Reaper’s eyes held her locked tight, searing her memory with the images of Haymaker’s last moments.

Twilight choked back a cry: “Snow Sprite! Oh!”

Reaper closed his eyes, breaking the link.

“Yeah,” he said, “sure seemed real, didn’t it? That was a speciality of Nightmare Moon’s: perfectly-constructed moments of sheer horror. They would last only a moment, but would seem to stretch on for minutes.”

Twilight wobbled slightly and fought the urge to retch.

“Is Luna OK? How did she react this time?” Twilight asked.

“Well,” Reaper replied, “at least she didn’t dash off in the opposite direction, this time…”

Twilight’s ears pricked up: “That’s good, isn’t it?”

Reaper scowled a little: “Yeah, though it would have been nice if she hadn’t just plopped down 50 feet away and stared at the dirt.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, quietly. “I guess it’s all just too much for her, to see the pain she caused over and over. Kind of like the Tantabus.”

“Kind of,” Reaper agreed, “though if I heard the story right, that was the same engineered, self-inflicted dream night after night. These are the nightmares of other ponies, inflicted entirely against their will, ushering them to their deaths.”

Twilight shook her head: “No--but she didn’t know that!” she objected.

Reaper sucked air through his teeth and turned away: “I’m not so sure…”

Twilight blinked sharply. “What are you saying? That she knew these would be death dreams?!”

“Or at least suspected it,” Reaper replied. “She mentioned having recollections of this--how did she put it--”darkness that felt alive,” off and on throughout the centuries. I don’t think even she really knows what that means. I told her to try to work back as far as she could, to her earliest memory of this unusual manifestation.”

Reaper repositioned himself on his cushion and began to settle back into his trance-like state.

“I guess it’s time to head back and see what she’s discovered,” he said.

“Wait!” Twilight blurted out, pointing at his flank. “Before you go--what is your cutie mark? I mean it is a cutie mark, right? You have it on the back of your cloak, too, so I wasn’t sure.”

He glanced down at the 死 emblazoned below his hip.

“That,” he said, “is the symbol for the word “death” in another culture on another world, in another reality. I like it because it’s so simple and to-the-point. It’s also kind of a long story, so it'll have to wait 'til later.”

He closed his eyes and faded a bit, as though he were made of cloudy, dust-covered glass.

Begin at the Beginning

“Princess…”

The darkness swallowed Reaper’s voice.

“Priiiiiiincesss!”

Reaper’s horn glowed, casting deep shadows throughout the ruined hall.

“Oh, let’s not do this, please!” he called out, walking toward the back of the chamber, picking his way over broken stones and roots.

“You know I don’t really have any particular power in the dreamscape, so finding you is going to take time we honestly don’t have.”

He ducked under a crumbling arch and noticed a darker shape huddled in the adjoining chamber.

He sighed and moved closer. “There you are, Princess...and what’s that you have there?” he asked, noticing her poking at the shattered remnants of a tarnished helmet.

“Hmm,” he mused, “what’cha doing?” He sat down next to Luna and looked at the various fragments of Nightmare Moon’s ruined armor and harness. She appeared to be piecing it back together loosely, like a broken puzzle.

“Ah. So I take it your “reconnaissance” didn’t go well?” he asked.

Luna turned her head toward Reaper and stared into his eyes. Tears welled in her own eyes, and Reaper’s horn-glow glittered in the black pools of her dilated pupils.

“I have seen more than I ever wanted to, Harbinger. I went back to the very foundations of my shame and pain, and looked for the darkness to manifest. I watched the first nightmares I ever inflicted on the ponies of this world.”

Luna closed her eyes and let her head droop.

Reaper waited silently, listening to the scrape and clank of the harness bits Luna was pushing around.

Luna took a deep breath: “I believe I found the original occurrence of the darkness,” she said. “Do you recall the passing of a pony named Sea Foam?”

Reaper raised an eyebrow. “How long do you think we have, Princess?” he asked. “I can recall at least 75 ponies by that name over the last 1000 years without even trying.”

Luna nodded: “I understand, but this Sea Foam would have lived almost 900 years ago.”

Reaper chewed his lip and pondered for a minute, his eyes focused off in the distance.

“An earth pony stallion, pale green?” he offered.

“No. Just after him--an old cream-colored mare.”

Reaper shifted his gaze up to the darkness above, and blinked slowly. “Nooo…” he said tentatively.

“I’m not surprised,” Luna responded, “she was a hermit, living in a thinly-populated region. I find it unlikely you would find a trace of her in anypony’s dying memories.” She rocked forward and laid her chin on her crossed hooves, staring at the half-reconstructed fragment of her old breastplate.

Reaper agreed: “Yeah, a hermit would certainly leave little or no trace in any other lives. And you’re sure this is a true vision?”

Luna levitated and manipulated the breastplate pieces, welding them back together, tipping her head sideways, examining the result.

Reaper furrowed his brow. “Collecting souvenirs, Princess?” he asked quietly.

She blinked slowly, attaching a length of chain with a pale flash.

“I find it helps me reconstruct my memories, if I reconstruct some of these old mementos.”

She stood suddenly, and let the half-finished cuirass fall to the floor with a clang.

She turned to Reaper as he climbed to his feet: “You asked if this was a true vision. Let me show you…”

They stepped out of the banner-portal onto a windswept, frozen heath. An old pale mare ran by, breathing hard, stones flying up from the ground as she thundered by at top speed, with Nightmare Moon in close pursuit.

“What do you want?!” cried Sea Foam, swerving around clumps of grass and low shrubs in a vain attempt to evade her pursuer. “Why do you haunt my dreams?!”

“Because of what you did, you bitch of a sister!” Nightmare Moon shrieked, leveling magic blasts at Sea Foam’s retreating form.

“I’m losing them!” Reaper yelled, as he started after the two figures.

Luna placed a hoof on Reaper’s shoulder, and he froze in place as the whole scene seemed to shift perspective and glide directly in front of them, as though on a treadmill.

“Oh--that works, too!” he remarked. Luna stared ahead silently.

“I don’t understand!” yelled Sea Foam. “I’m not your sister! I don’t even know you or your sister!”

“It matters little whether you know it or not, but you are my sister!” cried Nightmare Moon, finally landing a magic bolt on her target.

Sea Foam spilled to the earth, and howled in pain, as her cutie mark--a blue-green spiral--burned away, replaced by Celestia’s sunburst. Tattered, broken wings forced their way up through her shoulders with a ripping sound. A jagged, blood-streaked horn poked through her forehead.

Nightmare Moon dropped from the sky and straddled Sea Foam as the struggling pony rolled to her back and tried to kick free.

Magic bolts struck again and again, leaving welts, gashes and flaming streaks, as Sea Foam writhed and gasped in agony.

“No, please!” Sea Foam pleaded, as Nightmare Moon lifted off the ground and backed away a pace, preparing to rear up, and drive her metal-clad hooves into Sea Foam’s neck.

Sea Foam took the opportunity of that brief break to scurry sideways, and bolt to her feet, knocking her tormentor off-balance. She dashed madly toward a cave opening that had appeared in a nearby rock formation, and dived through the entrance.

Nightmare Moon regained her footing and scrambled after her quarry: “No! No escape! I will have justice for the wrong you have done!”

She leaned forward into the inky opening, horn shining bright with deadly power: “You cannot hide in the darkness, dear sister--I own the dark!"

The air throbbed with energy as Nightmare Moon’s horn erupted with a violet-black burst that swamped the cave, bathing Sea Foam in indescribable pain and horror, which coalesced into a black miasma, spilling out of the entrance, smothering the rock formation, crushing it as though the sea itself had lurched onto the land.

Sea Foam’s unearthly cries of anguish were cut short by the crash and crack of rock, and Nightmare Moon’s howls of tortured laughter.

The whole scene was wreathed in impenetrable darkness for a moment, and as it passed, the scene dissolved away, leaving only a pale moon hanging in the sky, and Sea Foam’s broken body, face frozen in a rictus of terror, which dissolved away into the turf.

Reaper blinked, and found himself again, in the castle ruins, Luna some way away, looking out through a broken window, at a pale moon rising.

"I begged you not to leave me alone with my memories," Luna whispered.

Reaper shook his head slowly: “Wow.”

A Lesson In Death

“So,” Reaper began, hesitantly, “you want to talk about that?”

“What is there to say?” Luna responded. “Clearly I was responsible for Sea Foam’s death! My sister was wrong: I did kill!” She levitated the broken helm and stared at it blankly.

Reaper hummed tunelessly to himself for a moment, then reached up and rubbed under his chin.

“I don’t know about that,” he said at last breaking his reverie, “I couldn’t see inside the cave, and after it collapsed, it was too late to work out a cause-and-effect chain.”

Luna turned to face him, and opened her mouth to speak; he cut her off: “I know--it clearly looked like she died of shock, of the horrors Nightmare Moon was inflicting beyond an old pony’s ability to withstand. I’ve seen death-by-fright before. But I really want to see into that cave…”

“The cave was me,” Luna retorted, “just as poor Sea Foam was pressed into service as a proxy for my sister!” She ran a hoof down the length of her muzzle and squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

Reaper turned away and slowly walked toward the banner, lost in thought: “I don’t know…”

Luna shouted, panic creeping into her voice, “She entered me just as surely as Firebrand had! When I said “I am the dark” it was not a mere metaphor!”

Reaper stopped and looked back over his shoulder, brows furrowed: “so you caused the cave entrance to appear?”

“I must have!”

Reaper’s puzzlement deepened: “That doesn’t answer my question: “must have” does not equal “did.” Did you create the cave opening?”

Luna advanced on Reaper, bristling: “What does it matter? Do you, of all ponies, not know death when you see it? I was its author then, and I now fear, countless other times as well!”

Reaper glared back: “Alright, Princess, let’s assume for the sake of argument that you’re right and you did traumatize Sea Foam beyond endurance, and her heart gave out. I repeat: I’ve seen it before. That doesn’t make you the genesis of this dark-beyond-darkness that blots out ponies’ essences!”

“Where else would they have gone?!” she spat back.

Reaper tipped his head back slightly and closed his eyes halfway.

“Time for a lesson in death, Princess.”

The castle vanished in a sudden swirl of grey, as though it had been blasted away by a sandstorm. Reaper’s “waiting room” came into view for an instant, then both ponies were falling through rain-soaked clouds, the wind whistling in their ears.

Reaper turned his head to Luna and shouted, “Do you know where we are?”

“Falling, from the looks of it,” Luna replied, fanning her wings out instinctively.

“Don’t!” Reaper said sharply, “Keep ‘em tucked in. You’ll be fine. Look to your left.”

Luna rolled her shoulders and peered through the clouds to her left. She saw a young pegasus falling in a spinning dive next to her, his left wing shredded and useless. “Who…?” she began to ask.

“His name is, well, was, Cloud Deck--a young, talented, overenthusiastic flyer who ignored storm warnings and tried some high-risk maneuvers among some particularly challenging rock formations.”

Reaper nodded downward: “You see the result so far, and can likely guess the end result, too.”

Luna nodded, and replied weakly, “Yes…”

“Now watch.”

Cloud Deck furiously attempted to break his fall, but his speed was too great, and the downdraft too strong, that even had he had full use of both wings, he would not have been able to pull out. His cries for help became increasingly hysterical.

“Please, Celestia, anypony! Help meeee!”

He glanced frantically to his right and looked with amazement at the faint shadow of Reaper nearby.

“Oh, please! It was a stupid mistake! Don’t take me!!”

Cloud Deck shrieked like a banshee, his eyes frozen open, as the earth rushed up to meet him.

He hit the rough, rock-strewn ground and burst open like an overripe melon, spilling intestines and brains for several feet in all directions. Luna grimaced and fought back the urge to retch. She and Reaper hovered a few inches above Cloud Deck’s ruined body, their descent having simply stopped with no attendant deceleration.

“So,” Reaper asked, “when did this poor bastard die?”

Luna swallowed hard and spat the taste of bile out of her mouth before replying: “Obviously, the moment he hit the ground. What was the point of…”

“Wrong!” Reaper interjected. “Watch again!”

The scene rewound a few seconds, and this time, Reaper leaned in toward Luna, touching his horn to her right temple.

Cloud Deck’s fall resumed, but at a greatly-reduced rate. The stretch of his mouth in his final death scream was more pronounced, and Luna saw a double image of him, flickering just at the edge of her peripheral vision. She heard a great rushing sound, like water being released far away. Her head swam and she had to fight a sudden wave of vertigo.

Then the scene snapped back to its grim conclusion, and Luna, once again, hovered just above the smear that had been Cloud Deck.

“Wha-what was that?” Luna stammered.

“You know how you record all the details of ponies’ dreams, and call recall them all, given enough time and concentration?” Reaper asked.

Luna nodded and looked away from Cloud Deck’s remains.

“I am Death’s doorward, its agent, its final arbiter," Reaper stated. "Nothing that happens in a pony’s last moments is outside my senses or my power. I gave you a vague sense of that a moment ago. So I ask again, when did Cloud Deck die?”

Luna closed her eyes and replayed the second before Cloud Deck hit the ground, as though it was a dream.

She opened her eyes, puzzled, and replied: “He died just an instant before hitting the earth! His heart and mind gave out.”

Reaper smiled grimly: “Close enough. Yes: he died--for all intents and purposes--of fright. The terror of his impending doom was too much for his mortal frame to withstand, and he died of a massive heart attack, which blacked him out.”

Reaper stepped down from his displaced, hovering position and walked a bit away from the frozen scene. He pointed to raindrops hanging motionless in the air.

“Every death is composed of hundreds of infinitesimally-small instants that surround the deceased like these raindrops, or like a cloud of dust. I can tell you, with certainty, within a fraction of eternity, exactly when a pony dies.”

The scene dissolved, leaving Luna and Reaper standing again on his endless, slate-gray plain.

Pale blue cushions appeared, and a still-shaken Luna gratefully settled onto them.

Reaper continued: “However, without a trace of those moments--those particles, if you will--I cannot absolutely nail-down with precision how or when a pony passed.”

Reaper walked over and sat down in front of Luna.

“So, yes,” he said, “you likely were responsible for Sea Foam’s death, though I don’t really think Haymaker or Firebrand were your hoof-work. You set them up, to be sure, but whatever this impenetrable blackness is, caused their deaths and blotted them--and all traces of them--out.”

Reaper looked deep into Luna’s eyes: “So I ask again--did you create the cave opening where Sea Foam sought refuge, or did she create it out of desperation, or was it something else?”

Luna stared back, but her focus was far beyond Reaper’s eyes as she reconstructed her victim’s final moments.

“I do not know,” she said slowly. “The cave was there, she fled into the cave, my hatred filled the cave, I was the cave, she was inside me, the blackness was me, the blackness spilled out of me, my rage blinded me and crushed everything…”

“And Sea Foam died.” Reaper concluded. “But you still don’t know about the cave with absolute certainty. And you spoke of your 'blinding' rage.”

Reaper stood and sighed, “So we still don’t really know…”

Luna choked back a sob and stammered, “But it does not matter! The blackness must have come from me, even if it wasn’t actually me! Like the Tantabus!”

Reaper pursed his lips: “Maybe. But we still can’t be sure.”

He took a deep breath. “Look, let’s head back to your chambers for a little bit. I need to update Twilight, and a touch of real air and sunshine might do you good.”

Luna looked up in alarm. “Oh, Blessed Night!” she cried in alarm. “Twilight will know of all this, now! I cannot bear for her or Celestia to know the true depth of my evil!”

Reaper replied soothingly, “Twilight seems like a good kid, and she’s been through quite a bit this last couple of years. She knows and loves and trusts who you are now, Luna. Trust in that, and we’ll all figure this out together. I still don’t know if the pieces fit for you to be the root of all this. Something just seems off.”

He held his hoof out to Luna and helped her to her feet.

“I hope you are right, Reaper, otherwise none of us is safe!”

Debrief

Twilight was poring over her notes as a guard deposited a book and pair of scrolls on the growing pile covering her side table. She heard a stifled yawn, and turned to see Luna awaken.

“Oh, Princess Luna!” she cried happily, “how are you, have you been…” She stopped short when she saw Luna’s pained expression and hollow eyes.

“Luna!” Twilight whispered quietly, “what’s happened to you?”

“It’s been a bad few hours for the Princess, I’m afraid,” came Reaper’s answer from behind Twilight.

She jumped to her feet, upsetting the side table, spilling ink. “S-sorry! You startled me!”

Reaper smiled and began rearranging the toppled table and its contents.

“Is she OK?” Twilight asked.

“She’s made of tough stuff--she’ll be OK...” he glanced over Twilight’s shoulder at Luna’s slumped form, “in a bit.”

Twilight turned to face Reaper, her ears laying down slightly: “What happened?”

He took a deep breath and let it out with a tired ‘whoosh.’

“Step up, Princess--it’s time for your next debriefing.”

Again Reaper locked eyes with Twilight and watched the growing horror on her face as he poured out his memories.

Twilight whimpered and twisted, trying to pry her gaze from Reaper’s: “Pl-please! Let me go! Don’t show me any more!”

“Just another moment, Twilight--sorry, it has to be done.” He leaned in one last time, then turned his head away.

Twilight gasped and fell backward as though stunned, one eye flickering shut, a trickle of saliva running from the corner of her mouth.

She dropped heavily on her cushions and wept: “Did she really kill Sea Foam? What are we looking for?!”

She flopped face-first into a pillow and let wracking sobs overtake her.

Reaper shook his head a little, and walked to the side table containing the carafe of hard cider. His horn glowed as he lifted it and a goblet into the air, and walked back to the two princesses.

He floated a filled cup in front of Twilight’s muzzle, then reconsidered. He poured half of the cider back, and placed the cup before Twilight again.

“Have a bit to drink, kiddo--it’ll help clear your head,” he said.

Twilight struggled to sit upright, apologizing as she did so: “I-I’m so sorry! It’s just all too much!”

She took the goblet between her hooves, and lifted it to her trembling lips; a bit dribbled as she took a long drink, shaking the whole time. She dropped the empty cup absently, and wiped her mouth with the back of her right hoof.

“What happened in the cave?” she asked, “did--did you get any sense of what went on in there? Was the--the thing there? Maybe it was controlling the situation...”

Reaper bit his lip for a moment, but Luna responded before he could: “No, Twilight, I am to blame, here. The terror I unleashed on that poor pony was the cause of her death.”

“OK, but like I said,” interjected Reaper, “I’m not at all sure as to how that “thing,” as Twilight put it, is related to you. I’m still not convinced you’re the direct cause of its manifestation.”

Twilight furrowed her brow and glanced at the side table, but held her tongue.

Luna stood, and walked over to the scorched tree, picking absently at its blackened leaves.

“Yes, so you’ve said,” she responded. “Regardless, I’m clearly the catalyst for this “thing,” and must therefore bear the burden of its evil!”

Reaper rolled his eyes: “Again with the self-flagellation, Luna?” He took a swig from the carafe. “Look at this--I don’t even eat or drink, and you have me downing cider!”

He slammed the container down on the side table and continued: “And please use the past tense--you were the catalyst for this thing! Maybe! This constant wallowing in old deeds is clouding your judgement!”

Luna drew herself to her full height and took a deep breath: “Very well. I shall try to keep some detachment from these “old deeds,” as you call them, but it is not easy. We can’t all be bloodless agents of entropy!”

Reaper’s eyebrows jumped: “No--some of us clearly enjoyed the bloodier aspects of entropy, and that’s kind of why we’re having trouble sorting signal from noise, here!”

Twilight gasped. “Reaper! Luna!” she cried, scrambling to her hooves, trying to put herself between the two.

Reaper took a step back and sat heavily on the floor with a sigh. Luna glared at him.

“OK,” he said, “you’re right: I’m usually pretty detached about all of this. I’ve seen hundreds of thousands of ponies die during my millennia in Equestria, more than I care to count. The actual death of one pony, more or less, is just a line-item to me.”

He tipped his head up and made eye contact with Luna, now towering above him.

“But this is different. These ponies: Haymaker, Firebrand, Dew Drop, Sea Foam, and undoubtedly scores more, didn’t die--they were erased or consumed or something far more awful than just dying and moving on past the circles of this world.”

He stood and closed in on Luna, nearly touching noses; she stood stock-still, nostrils flaring.

“And all the crimes you ever committed in a mere thousand years pale to insignificance in the face of that, Princess!”

He turned to Twilight: “Haymaker was destroyed in a moment of torment, believing he had ultimately failed even Snow Sprite--the foal he had actually saved that day! He will never have the chance in the time beyond this world to heal from that and close his book of life--he may as well have just never existed in the first place!”

Reaper stepped back from Luna, whose expression had softened a bit.

“That’s why we have to keep going back in, no matter how ugly it gets for all of us,” Reaper concluded. “It’s one thing to end a life--it’s an entirely different thing to destroy one.”

He looked up at the ceiling, searching again for the little, bright eyes in the shadows.

“Even if that means Luna really is responsible for this thing?” Twilight asked in a small, shaky voice.

Luna closed her eyes.

“Especially then,” Reaper replied heavily, letting his head drop.

He couldn’t spot the eyes.

Death In Slow-Motion

Luna sat down near the side table and ate some bread, as Reaper paced, and Twilight arranged her notes. The sun hung low in the west windows, and shadows deepened in the chamber’s recesses.

At last Reaper stopped and turned to Twilight: “A few minutes ago you said “what are we looking for,” yes?”

She looked up and nodded hesitantly: “I was just frustrated and scared, and…”

Reaper cut her off: “No--that’s actually the right question. We keep trying to prove a negative, here. We keep looking for evidence of a thing that almost by definition doesn’t exist.”

He rubbed his temples and walked to the sunset-streaked window.

“Alright,” Reaper began, “we’re pretty sure Nightmare Moon was responsible for at least one dream death, and likely more, but,” he turned back toward a shaken Twilight, “do they all look like Sea Foam’s end, or do some of them play out more like a typical death?”

Twilight began to object: “But couldn’t it have just been that one? She really can’t have been responsible for…”

Luna cut her off sternly: “No, Twilight, I’m afraid Reaper must be right. I surely was responsible for at least a few more deaths due to fear.”

Reaper nodded to Luna. “We need to find one of those, since I would have been there at the last moment to do my duty. And though I’m sure everything was very dark, if a pony died and I was present, nothing would have been hidden from me.”

Luna closed her eyes and breathed deeply: “I will ponder this for a moment…”

Reaper walked back across the room and sat down in his accustomed spot.

Twilight looked back and forth between Luna and Reaper, and asked, “what are you hoping to see?”

“We need to look for the differences between Nightmare Moon’s darkness, and this “thing”--how do they manifest?” Reaper replied, “Is the “thing” masking itself in Nightmare Moon’s own shadows?”

Luna opened her eyes and brushed away a tear: “Do you recall an old unicorn stallion about 150 years ago named Heavy Gauge?”

Reaper furrowed his brow and focused on the floor: “Now it’s my turn to ponder--hold on.” He bobbed his head up and down rhythmically as though counting.

“There he is,” Reaper said at last, “a big, ol’ fella. Yeah, I remember him.”

Reaper stood up and walked to Luna: “So, how do we want to start with this? We’re going to see the same scene twice, but through different lenses, as it were.”

Luna nodded, and glanced at Twilight: “And it will be up to you to chart the subtle differences between our tellings.”

Twilight nodded back, then said, “But is there a way to see them both at the same time? To see Reaper’s perspective from inside your images, Luna?”

Luna looked at Reaper and shrugged. He raised an eyebrow: “I guess it would be, essentially, a complete replay of the actual event itself, cloaked in the dream, like a costume. Smart!”

Twilight started to smile.

“However,” Reaper interjected as Twilight’s smile faded, “there’s one problem…”

A look of sudden comprehension dawned on Luna’s face as she took up the thread: “We will both be focused on our own perspective.”

Now Luna turned to Twilight: “If you were to accompany us, you would be able to witness the scene from a true third-pony perspective.”

Reaper nodded: “It’s not really all that different from my offloading of memories into your mind, but it would be more efficient, and ensure that I’m not introducing a bias.”

Twilight trembled: “G-go with you two? Into the dreamscape to witness a death?”

Luna looked at Twilight sympathetically and spoke softly: “No harm can come to you; we will be there, and this is truly no different than Reaper giving you his memories.”

Twilight shuffled her hooves and spoke to the floor: “I can’t run away here--he locks me in-place with his eyes…”

Reaper smiled grimly: “That’s true, Princess, but I can see why Luna and Celestia have put their faith in you multiple times. I think you’ll stand your ground.” Luna nodded.

Twilight smiled gamely: “Should I stand on a towel?”

The three ponies materialized in the dreamscape ruins of the Sisters’ castle, and looked around to get their bearings.

Luna intensified the light from her horn and pointed at the banner, hanging limply from its cracked archway.

“This way,” she said, walking forward, rising into the air as if on an invisible ramp.

Images flickered over the surface of the banner, freezing as Luna’s horn touched it.

“There is Heavy Gauge, in his final dream. Please step through,” Luna said, standing aside with a grim expression.

Twilight tentatively stepped through first, followed by Reaper, then Luna.

All three appeared in the midst of a dark, dimly-lit forest. They could hear a pursuit approaching.

Luna introduced the scene: “You will see him emerge in a moment, followed by three timber wolves. It is an old dream of his, revisited since childhood. He always awakens just before being torn apart. He is always young and healthy and able to elude them ‘til the final moment.”

Reaper nodded in concurrence: “But not this time, if I recall....here he comes! Watch closely as this happens, Twilight. Luna will try to hold the perspective in focus while I slow time to a near-stop. This is similar to the visions I have given you, but will be more vibrant and life-like.”

Twilight swallowed hard and let her ears droop: “More life-like…?”

“And here they are!” Luna cried, her eyes glinting in the pale moonlight.

A young, hale dark-blue unicorn burst through the brush, scattering branches and leaves. His sides heaved from exertion, and sweat flew from his flanks.

Hard on his heels three snarling timber wolves shot through the gap he had made, and nipped at his heels.

“Sweet Celestia, not again!” he panted, dodging and throwing up dirt in his wake. He leaped powerfully over a fallen log, and made a break toward open ground.

Luna gritted her teeth and whispered, “now.”

Reaper stepped forward a pace and tossed his head back, his horn glowing a faint violet. The world seemed to slow to a snail’s pace as a dark band of energy rippled across Heavy Gauge’s body, aging it in an instant to that of a lame old stallion of many decades.

His now-cloudy eyes went wide with terror as his limbs gave out, one front leg snapping like a dry twig, one hip dislocating with a sickening pop.

He crashed forward in a heap as the hunters swarmed him in slow motion.

The scene suddenly shifted, rotated and zoomed as Luna brought the three viewers in closer to the action.

One of the wolves appeared to shift and transform, as a rough horn sprang from its forehead, and branch-like wings cracked forth from its back.

As the other wolves bit into the stricken unicorn’s flank and neck, the area around the lead wolf appear to sharpen, and break free from the time constraint which was slowing the rest of the scene.

“You’re not getting away this time you feeble old bag of bones!” the wolf snarled, its tones shifting with every syllable until it became Nightmare Moon’s voice.

“You’ve been running for years, but now you’re too tired and broken-down, and I weary of chasing you further!” she cried, as a strangled scream bubbled from Heavy Gauge’s shredded throat, spraying Nightmare Moon-wolf’s face with blood.

The wolf grinned wickedly and licked the blood from its chops, relishing the unicorn’s impending end.

Reaper looked back over his shoulder and called to Luna: “Come in closer!”

The world appeared to iris in, focusing on Heavy’s upper torso and face.

Reaper tipped his head slightly to the right, and allowed the scene to continue.

“See everything, Twilight!” He shouted, “I’m letting time crawl by, but neither Luna nor I can maintain this vision in this form much longer!”

Twilight’s eyes widened in horror as Nightmare Moon-wolf buried her muzzle into the twitching unicorn’s ripped abdomen, pulling out lengths of intestine, splattering the grass with blood.

The darkness surrounding Heavy Gauge’s body deepened as his thrashing diminished, his eyes glazed over, and his bowels emptied with a bloody gush.

Nightmare Moon now stood above the riven body in her full form, howling like a timber wolf, blood streaming down her face, streaking her breastplate, as a dark mist swirled around her, dissolving everything else like a hot wind.

The scene froze as Reaper stepped fully into the scene and examined the faint ripples above Heavy’s body. Luna hung her head as glittering tears dripped at her feet.

Twilight trembled uncontrollably and begged Reaper: “In Celestia’s name!! Let it end!!”

He scanned the area one last time and nodded to Luna.

The scene blinked out, leaving only the old unicorn’s twisted, disemboweled body, reeking of hot blood and shit, twitching out its death spasms, lying on a vast, empty slate-gray plain. It was the only object left in the entire universe as far as Twilight could tell, and it filled her senses entirely.

Twilight staggered sideways and heaved violently, choking and weeping, dropping drunkenly to her knees.

“That’s enough, Reaper!” Luna said sharply, raising a wing, shielding Twilight from the gory scene.

Reaper shook his head and blinked: “Sorry! I was distracted. Let’s end this…”

Suddenly they were standing in small bedroom in a cottage, with Heavy Gauge’s withered body splayed out on the bed, eyes sightless and straining from their sockets, a trickle of blood leaking from his nose. A faint phantom of past-Reaper hovered on the other side of the bed, barely visible.

Luna glared at the Reaper standing next to her: “Do we really require Twilight to be here any longer?”

Reaper took a deep breath and rolled his neck and shoulders in a circle.

“None of us need to be here any longer. If the three of us didn’t see what needed to be seen, I don’t know what more to do,” he stated. “Let’s get her back.”

The scene faded out, replaced by Luna’s chambers. Luna gently settled Twilight’s senseless body onto a low, padded couch and wiped the vomit away from her mouth and breast.

Reaper looked at both alicorns for a moment, then walked toward the side table.

“I need a drink…”

Course Correction

Luna sat next to Twilight, fanning her gently with a wing.

“This is too much for her, Reaper!” she said, “We must find another way!”

Reaper shook his head slowly, but firmly: “We can process this information so much faster running through our shared visions this way.”

He looked down at the matted, vomit-smeared coat on Twilight’s chin and chest.

“I know it’s rough on her,” he responded, “hell--it’s rough on you!” He nodded at Luna.

She pursed her lips: “Yes, but I am responsible for this--”

Reaper took a breath to interrupt.

“Yes, yes,” she continued over him, “for much of this, if not all! But the point is, I was there! I know what happened. I tore out that poor unicorn’s entrails and revelled in the blood. It sickens me, too, but not enough to render me insensate!”

A tear ran down her cheek as she looked with deep concern at Twilight’s slack, unconscious face.

Reaper paced back and forth in front of the princesses.

“We’re close, Luna,” he said impatiently. “I know we almost have the key to figuring out this “thing’s” source! The sharing of visions, having Twilight there as an outside observer--this will get us what we need much faster than flipping back and forth between our memories!”

Luna’s expression hardened: “She may not survive another episode like this last one--and there are worse to come!”

She closed her eyes and sighed: “We may have no choice now but to enlist my sister in this cause…”

Reaper shook his head dismissively: “She’d never be able to tolerate my presence long enough to get the job done--she’d be too distracted.”

“I can do it,” croaked Twilight weakly, “please get me something to drink…”

Luna scooped a wing underneath Twilight’s body and helped pull her into an upright position: “Certainly! Reaper--please fetch some water or cider for Twilight!”

Reaper walked to the side table muttering, “Yeah--we could all use a drink!”

Twilight cleared her throat and looked for somewhere to spit. Luna shrugged and magically moved a nearby planter next to Twilight.

Reaper delivered a cup of cider to Twilight, who drank it to the bottom, and unsteadily spoke again: “Reaper’s right--between the three of us we can make out details neither one of you could alone, and that even the two of you might not get right between you both.”

She took a deep breath, followed by a large hiccough; her eyes watered, and she spit in the planter, again.

She continued: “And what about scenes where the pony didn’t appear to die--where Reaper never intervened? Can’t the three of us together pull more information out of those, than just you alone, Luna? Even Reaper isn’t of much use after-the-fact.”

She suddenly wobbled to her feet and tried to stagger off to the right side of the chamber.

Luna stood with her: “Where are you going, Twilight? You should rest!”

Twilight answered over her shoulder, stumbling toward a small, adjoining room: “I have to pee--really badly!”

Reaper and Luna heard a door slam.

Reaper turned to Luna: “You know, she’s absolutely right! There’s no reason we can’t use the same technique to explore one of your dream sequences where a pony is taken by the darkness, without my involvement. It would be another situation like Sea Foam, where you may well have killed, but maybe not: maybe something stepped in at the last instant and denied the victim a real death!”

Before Luna could answer, their attention was taken by the sounds of retching and water running.

Luna furrowed her brow.

“She’ll come through this OK,” asserted Reaper, “though if you can sort through the candidate scenarios and find one a bit less barbaric than this last one, it might help.”

Luna glared at Reaper, but sat down on the couch and composed her face.

Her lips moved wordlessly as her eyes flicked to and fro underneath their closed lids.

Reaper stood silently, watching Luna intently, until he heard the door to the bathroom open. He turned to see Twilight weakly, but accurately, walk across the open floor back to her companions.

“I’m really sorry, Princess Luna,” Twilight began, rubbing her wet mane with a towel, “but you’re going to need to get a bunch of fresh towels in there after it gets cleaned up! I promise to help when…”

Reaper put up a hoof and waved off the rest of Twilight’s apology; he nodded down at Luna.

“She’s finding us a candidate scene where it appears Nightmare Moon may have killed without my intervention at the end,” he explained.

“Like Sea Foam?” Twilight queried.

Reaper nodded: “But hopefully something clearer, not in a cave, not hundreds of years before the pattern really got established.”

He took a swig from his own goblet.

“I’m hoping she comes across something rather recent.”

Luna opened her eyes and looked up: “Then you should not be disappointed with my discovery, though it is rather embarrassing.” She bit her lip and looked away.

“Worse than disemboweling an old unicorn?” Reaper said archly.

Luna tapped the tips of her hooves together: “No, not like that, just more embarrassing…”

A look of comprehension dawned on Reapers face: “Ah--as in Firebrand “embarrassing,” is that it?”

Luna shifted uncomfortably and nodded.

Twilight blushed a little, and Reaper rolled his eyes: “By Cerberus' hairy balls, Luna! You were Nightmare Moon, and it was all bad. This is just a different kind of bad! I somehow don’t think humping is going to be as upsetting to Twilight's delicate sensibilities as watching a pony getting ripped into bloody pieces! Now let’s go see if we can pierce this accursed veil”

Luna sighed and reclined as Twilight and Reaper settled onto their respective cushions.

Succubus

“So where are we bound this time?” Reaper asked as the three ponies rose up to the portal banner.

“We will see the last moments of Zephyr,” Luna explained, “a powerful flyer of some repute, in his youth. I recall he flew with the Wonderbolts for a time, many years ago.”

“He had a loving mate and several devoted children,” she continued, “and a rich dream life.”

“Rich dream life?” Twilight repeated, quizzically.

“A euphemism for 'fantasies,' I presume,” Reaper opined.

Luna sighed: “Yes, I suppose you could put it that way. In any event, he had kept memories from far back in his youth, of a fellow pegasus named Brandywine. They were students together for a time at the Academy, and he maintained an occasional interest in keeping those memories alive.”

They stepped through the portal into a cool white and cream-colored room of scrubbed oak and stucco.

Zephyr lay on his back, splayed across a luxurious, triple-wide bed, wings fully spread, forehooves crossed behind his head. A shower could be heard coming from an adjoining room.

A mare stepped in from the right, wreathed in a cloud of steam, her long, magenta mane wet, dangling before her chocolate-brown face, covering one eye.

“How long has it been?” the mare asked in a sultry voice as she sat on the floor at the foot of the bed.

“Too damn long, Brandywine,” he replied, stretching luxuriously, his platinum grey coat rippling.

He looked down at her face, just visible below the end of the bed: “At least 50 years!”

“Can’t be,” she teased, pulling herself up slowly over the edge of the bed, “we’re both just kids--hardly out of school!”

Zephyr snorted: “Ha! 'Hardly out of school!' I don’t even remember school!” He closed his eyes and laid his head back, and took a deep breath.

“Oh, you smell good! That takes me back!”

The sunlight streaming in the window began to fade and shift, falling across Zephyr’s chest and neck. The steam cloud lingered and thickened, diffusing the light, giving the room a gauzy, dreamlike quality.

“This should help you remember, too,” Brandywine said as she slid her muzzle underneath his ice-blue tail, spilling it across her face, letting it slide off to one side as she pulled herself up between his legs.

The lamp beside the bed began to gutter and give off a thin spire of sooty smoke.

He felt her tongue slide underneath and over his scrotum as she worked her mouth up and over his member. His eyes opened lazily, and he tried to crane his neck so he could get a better view.

Brandywine pulled her mouth away for a moment: “Uh, uh! No peeking!” She arched her own wings high above her back and curled them next to her face, along the insides of his legs, touching the tips together over his chest.

Zephyr chuckled and sighed: “Yeah, that takes me back, too!”

The warm, burnished glow of sunset was now being replaced with a cool white light. The cloud of steam now condensed into a fog, settling to the floor.

Twilight shifted uncomfortably as wet sucking sounds and Zephyr’s heavy, rapid breathing filled the room.

Luna closed her eyes and shuddered.

Reaper noticed her motion out of the corner of his eye: “What?” he asked. “I see the setting starting to shift--are we nearing the tipping point?”

He turned to Twilight: “Pay attention to all the detail you can--I think we’re close!”

Twilight blurted out, “So is he!” then bit her lip and blushed furiously.

Reaper was stunned for a moment, then smiled: “Well, that was unexpected!”

He turned back toward Luna: “Whatever’s going to happen is about to happen, yes?”

Luna nodded weakly: “It already is…”

The light streaming in the window, falling across Zephyr’s face was now fully silver-white, and the fog rising from the floor had thickened to the point it was creeping over the surface of the bed. The extinguished lamp continued to produce a strand of smoke, which was piling-up like black string on the ceiling.

Brandywine pulled her mouth free from Zephyr with a soft, wet ‘pop’ and worked her body up through her own wings, drawing her rump up between his loins, and settling her opening down over the length of his shaft, her hind legs locked against his flanks.

Zephyr let out a deep moan, and tipped his hips forward involuntarily.

“And do you remember this as well?” Brandywine said, rhythmically rocking forward and back slowly, pressing her hooves into Zephyr's chest.

His eyes fluttered open for a moment, but lost focus as Brandywine’s wings slid in front of his face again, screening his view.

“Nope,” she chided, “not yet…”

Luna turned her head away and chewed her lip; a bead of sweat ran down the side of her face.

Twilight shifted nervously again, cleared her throat and whispered: “Um, what should I be focusing on most? What do you think will change first?”

Reaper smiled: “You don’t need to whisper, Twilight, this happened long ago, and we’re not really here, so they can’t hear you.”

He turned back to the scene and observed Brandywine’s cries and arched back, the slap of their bodies, and Zephyr’s grunts: “Besides, I don’t think they could hear you even if we were here for real right now!”

“And,” he continued, “as Luna pointed out, the scene already is shifting. In fact…”

He pointed to Brandywine who had now darkened to a deep bluish-black, her mane shifting from magenta to deep red to a dark purplish nimbus, spreading out, mingling with the smoke from the darkened lamp.

“This is it,” whispered Luna, nodding at the bed, eyes still tightly shut, trembling.

The fog covering the floor and bed deepened in tone, from steamy white to dark, smoky gray. The wisps of sooty smoke from the lamp had now formed a black pool on the ceiling; thin tendrils ran down the walls.

“Tell me you love me!” cried Brandywine’s voice, as Nightmare Moon’s sweat-streaked loins tightened around Zephyr, pulling his full length inside her.

Nightmare Moon, naked save for her helmet, now rose above Zephyr, wings outspread, rocking high, driving her rump up and down, staring into his now-open eyes.

He gasped and twisted, but was pinned by her front hooves, driven hard into his shoulders, and by her ferocious thrusting.

“What...is...it?” Nightmare Moon demanded, each word punctuated by her thrusts.

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a low moan escaped as Nightmare Moon squeezed and ground down against his pelvis again. She pushed her muzzle against his.

“What is wrong, young colt? Too old for you?” Her eyes glinted malevolently and her horn glowed.

She worked her hips up and down even faster, panting directly in Zephyr’s face, as the lines of age overtook it, piling the accumulated decades of life back on his body in an instant.

“Please...stop…!” he panted. “I...I…” He gasped for air, as the fog darkened to black, and the inky roof above thickened until it nearly touched Nightmare Moon’s quivering wings.

“I shall stop when I am done!” she cried, grinding down hard, wiggling her rump in a spasm of delight, leaning back, eyes closed.

Zephyr coughed and cried out weakly, his voice cracking, his legs and tail twitching suddenly.

Nightmare Moon’s eyes flew open, and she stopped thrusting for a moment, looking back over her shoulder at their joined bodies.

She grinned: “I said when I am done--not you!”

She pushed her face close to Zephyr’s again, staring into his bulging eyes as her hips pounded up and down. “When...I...am...done!”

Twilight stood transfixed, breathing shallowly, a bead of sweat running down her jawline.

The smoke-fog that nearly filled the room had taken on a unified, sooty blackness, almost condensing into a solid mass. The moonlight now streamed into the room with blinding intensity, glinting off Nightmare Moon’s helmet and the sweat running down her flanks.

Reaper’s eyes widened: “This is it, Luna! Touch your horn to my temple, I want to see if we can perceive anything beyond that shadow, or smoke or whatever it is!”

Luna took a deep, shuddering breath, looked up from the floor, and opened her eyes. She winced when she saw the scene on the bed, but leaned in toward Reaper, touching the side of his head with her faintly-glowing horn.

“What is the matter, Old Paint?” Nightmare Moon taunted, her hindquarters rising and falling faster even than the now-erratic pounding in Zephyr’s chest.

“Am I not your dream-mare? Do you not want to spend eternity inside me?” she shouted ecstatically, “TELL ME YOU LOVE ME!”

Nightmare Moon’s whole body shuddered violently and she cried out with a howl like a wild beast, wings spread wide, stirring the now-nearly-impenetrable, swirling smoke-fog that filled the room. Each beat of her wings caused a break in the darkness allowing the blinding moonlight to pour briefly through the window and flicker maniacally, like a broken strobe light.

“Now!” Reaper called out, straining forward, “Stop the scene!”

Everything froze.

Reaper struggled to press closer to the bed, but Luna restrained him: “You do not have free motion, here. This is not a death vision!”

Luna blinked away a tear, and squinted, causing the view to iris in on the bed, showing details in the smoke.

“Dammit!” Reaper cursed, eyes flickering over the scene, looking for any clues.

Twilight cleared her throat and spoke uncertainly: “Um, Lun--er, Nightmare Moon’s helmet just came off, and her mane is glowing.”

“Yes?” Reaper responded, distractedly, “And…?”

“Well,” Twilight continued, glancing away from the uncomfortably-close image of Nightmare Moon and Zephyr’s glistening hindquarters pressed fully together, “it looks like it’s casting a shadow inside the smoke or fog or…”

Reaper squinted then blinked hard.

“Wait…” He said, eyebrows suddenly jumping. “You can make out that detail? Twilight--press your horn against my other temple!”

She did, and suddenly all three could perceive striations and bands within the smoke and shadows. They could distinguish slight differences between Nightmare Moon’s own dark aura--now at its maximum--and the growing, deepening, abyssal blackness overtaking the room.

“That’s it!” Reaper cried. “I can see!” He studied the differences intently.

“Ple-please hurry,” Luna gasped, “I can’t hold this for much longer!”

“I understand,” Reaper replied. “Hurry, Twilight--see what you can as quickly as you can! We have to let this scene finish.”

Twilight’s eyes were briefly drawn again to Zephyr and Nightmare Moon’s joined bodies; she blinked hard, clearing her vision, and tipped her head slightly until she could catch a glimpse of the window.

Luna panted: “Must...let...go!” She shuddered, and Twilight and Reaper stumbled slightly in order to maintain contact between all three.

Nightmare Moon’s savage cry again slowly filled the room, as the dark cloud swept down on Zephyr’s body at half-speed, obscuring the scene utterly, leaving only a sliver of piercing moonlight to fall on his frozen, black-framed face.

Reaper gasped in shock: “By The Infinite, no!”

Luna’s head snapped up, and she fell back a step as her doppelgänger, still mounted atop Zephyr’s now-still body, blinked slowly at the clearing cloud, and looked down the length of her gleaming wet, blue-black coat, luxuriating in her heat and musk and power.

She slid off Zephyr’s member, quivering slightly, and stepped to the floor, lifted her helmet from where it had fallen, and replaced it over her horn and forehead with a sigh.

She then glanced around the room and lifted a pillow from behind Zephyr’s head with her magic. Squatting slightly, she raised her tail, and ran the pillow up the length of her backside, tossing it aside when done. It landed on Zephyr’s sunken, dying chest.

“Hardly worth the effort!” Nightmare Moon said archly as the scene began to fade. “I need to find younger playmates...”

Patterns

“Now what?” asked Twilight as the three reappeared in the Sisters’ ruined castle, moonlight pouring through the shattered roof.

Reaper closed his eyes and stood stock-still for several moments. He flickered faintly, as if a mist were passing between him and the Princesses.

Luna and Twilight furrowed their brows, and sat down.

“Um, Princess Luna?” Twilight said.

Luna turned her head: “Yes, Twilight, what is it?”

“You mentioned having made your own share of darkness. Was the Tantabus a special kind of darkness?” Twilight asked.

Luna puzzled for a moment: “Hmm. Yes, I suppose so, in a way. I could conjure intensely deep darkness that almost rivaled that of the Pit. Sometimes it would move of its own volition.”

She shifted uncomfortably and looked away: “You saw some of that in our last encounter with my alter ego…”

“Oh,” Twilight replied, “um, was it the thin smoke that rose to the ceiling?”

Luna nodded. “The fog was simply a dream effect--that is no different today. But the smoke I would actually briefly imbue with some of my essence in order to allow it some free reign.”

Reaper opened his eyes and perked up his ears.

Twilight then asked, “And that shadowy ghost by the window? Was that formed from moonlight? I notice a lot of moonlight in these nightmares. It’s kind of the signal that a dream is turning bad, isn’t it?”

Reaper slowly turned his head toward the two alicorns, eyes wide, nostrils flaring slightly.

Luna looked puzzled: “Yes--well, yes to the moonlight indicating a dream was shifting to a nightmare: that was typical. But I never imbued it with power or physicality. Darkness was my tool. What ghost?”

Reaper was now breathing rapidly, ears straining forward, trembling slightly.

“Well, at the end, I was looking away from the, um, action,” explained Twilight, blushing, “and I saw a ghost glimmering slightly at the edge of my vision. It was next to the window, and almost washed-out by the moonlight.”

Reaper exploded: “That’s it!”

Twilight shrieked in surprise, toppling backwards, and Luna sprang to her feet, horn ablaze.

“What in Tartarus are you shouting about?!” Luna cried.

“The “ghost,” as Twilight called it!” he replied, “And your ability to give independent action to darkness--smoke in this case!”

He beckoned the Princesses to the portal banner, and looked up: “Luna, we’re going to touch our horns to your temple again. We need to see exactly what Twilight saw, the way she saw it!”

Luna shuddered: “Reaper, I’m not sure I can go through that again so soon after we just--”

“Dammit, Luna!” Reaper replied, “We have the answer, well, an answer--a vital answer--within our grasp! I swear you two can take a break as soon as we get a better look at Twilight’s “ghost!””

Luna hung her head and sighed: “Very well. Let us go back to see what we must.”

The three reemerged in the fog-smoke shrouded room, Nightmare Moon again mounted atop Zephyr’s shriveling body, their hips and flanks pressed hard together, her head thrown back in dark ecstasy, droplets of hot sweat flying from her face.

Luna grimaced and repositioned herself before the bed. Twilight and Reaper swapped positions from the previous visit, and touched horns to Luna’s temples as before. She gritted her teeth and let the scene begin to creep forward slowly.

Reaper squinted at the edge of the window, letting his eyes play up and down its frame: “Gotcha, you bastard!”

“You can see it, too?” Twilight asked, trying to avoid looking at the entangled bodies, focusing instead on the smoke surrounding the head of the bed, now peeling off the wall like living, Stygian wallpaper.

“Yes,” he answered, “Luna should be able to, as well, if she focuses.”

Luna closed her eyes: “Yes. I, too, see a shape--ghostly indeed. Unicorn?”

Reaper agreed: “Right, and given the silhouette, I’m going to say a stallion…”

Luna grunted: “I’m even more fatigued this time. Have we seen enough?”

Reaper took one last look: “You’ve had a good, long look at that smoke and the darkness that worked its way in behind the smoke, Twilight?”

“Yes,” she replied.

Reaper leaned back away from Luna: “Then let’s head back to Canterlot and fit some of these puzzle pieces together!”

Twilight straightened up, too: “Gladly!”

Luna’s eyes hardened as her restraint over the scene broke down, and Nightmare Moon began again to dismount from Zephyr’s quivering, dying body, a trail of his life’s last fluids smearing down the inside of her leg.

Luna fired a blue-white magic bolt at her dark mirror image, collapsing the scene as though a light switch had been thrown.

“Bitch,” she growled.

The companions reappeared in Luna’s dreamscape home for a moment, then awoke on their cushions in her Canterlot chambers again. The light from the west window had failed, and deep shadows filled the room.

“It appears we have been gone longer than we originally anticipated,” Luna said, magically lighting various lamps and sconces about the chamber.

“Yes,” Reaper agreed. “I assume you both need something to eat at this point. I’ll fade out for a few minutes so you can send your guard for some food.”

Twilight sank back and sighed: “I could really use a bite!”

Luna concurred: “That is most appreciated, Reaper. Guard!”

One of Luna’s guards tentatively stuck his head around the corner of the chamber’s entrance.

“Yes, your Highness?” he replied halfheartedly.

Luna beckoned to him with a hoof: “Please come in. Reaper has removed himself from our sight.”

The guard stepped in gingerly and looked warily right and left: “OK, but I can still feel him!”

“Yes, yes,” Luna replied impatiently, “we simply need you to run to the kitchens and fetch back some fruit and bread.”

The guard turned and beat a hasty retreat from the room.

Twilight shouted after him: “And another carafe of that cider!”

Reaper reappeared next to Twilight, who gave a start: “That’s creepy! You’re just there, like you’ve been there forever and I simply lost track!”

He shrugged: “This is why I avoid being around regular ponies as much as possible. It’s very unnerving or even frightening for them."

Twilight took a deep breath and settled back down: “So what is that “ghost” shape? Is it just a phantom or spirit, or is it really a unicorn?”

Luna spoke up first: “I would take it for a real unicorn, shrouded in a cloak or spell that allows him to be largely invisible, or perhaps transparent.”

Reaper nodded: “I would agree with that. That Void was clearly directed. It formed-up behind the smoke tendrils, subsuming them, mimicking their shapes.”

“But they didn’t blend perfectly. That’s what I noticed the first time through the scene,” Twilight responded.

“Exactly,” Reaper concurred. “The Void he’s manipulating is too dark even for Nightmare Moon to mask over.”

Luna shifted nervously: “But I was clearly too distracted to notice…”

“Or care,” Reaper interjected. “It looked like you noticed something at the last, but didn’t find it interesting enough to investigate. You may have even thought it was some heightened effect of your own.”

Luna’s ears drooped, and she bit at her lip: “That is likely true. I had little concern for my own actions, let alone those of the nightmarish sprites of smoke and shadow I would conjure.”

Reaper nodded: “That was his trick, then--he knew Nightmare Moon would be too wrapped-up in whatever scene she was generating to pay attention to a little extra shadow or smoke, or what have you.”

“But he--our phantom unicorn--was faintly visible. Wouldn’t that have worried him?” asked Twilight.

Luna shook her head, and stood up: “No. I paid even less attention to the light, since it played little to no part in any of my schemes.” She walked toward the chamber’s vaulted entrance.

Reaper looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes: “So, we had a unicorn out there who was piggy-backing on Nightmare Moon’s worst depredations, and taking ponies’ spirits at the moment of their deaths, either by causing the death--Firebrand--or by grabbing a departing essence at the moment of death--Zephyr.”

Twilight and Reaper glanced toward the entrance as they heard Luna thank her nervous guard for delivering refreshments: “I shall take them from here--thank you!”

Reaper continued: “And in either case, Nightmare Moon would be unaware. When the Void took Firebrand, Nightmare Moon had already launched herself skyward, assuming her dark, crashing wave would end the nightmare. But we now know our killer’s tool must have been part of that wave.”

Luna levitated trays of fruit and bread between herself and Twilight as she settled back down to her cushions. Reaper took the refilled carafe from her and poured two goblets for the Princesses.

“And as for Zephyr,” he concluded, “though Nightmare Moon made a first-rate succubus, and did indeed end Zephyr’s life, it was our phantom killer who used his Void to remove the old pegasus’ spirit from the world.”

“But why?” asked Twilight, “What was--or is--he getting out of this?”

She bit down on an apple, and cocked her head slightly, looking back and forth between Luna and Reaper.

Luna sighed: “I know what Nightmare Moon derived from it, but I cannot believe the killer’s motives were the same. I do not understand his use of this Void, and I also cannot fathom how he has lived this long!”

Reaper settled on his cushion: “I believe I have a story that may be instructive. When you two are done with your repast, we’ll head to my “Waiting Room” where I can better illustrate the tale.”

Starswirl

Luna and Twilight looked around blankly for a moment, their eyes adjusting to the endless empty, flat-lit, grey expanse. Reaper appeared silently behind them.

“OK, so where to begin…?” Reaper said, summoning a low, padded couch for himself, and several cushions for his guests.

Reaper tapped his chin with his hoof: “Luna, I know you remember Starswirl the Bearded, and you, Twilight, I assume have read every scrap about him you could find.”

Both alicorns nodded.

“But,” Reaper continued, “I doubt either of you really know him--or knew him, in your case, Luna--very well. Honestly, the only pony left who knew him better than I did, is Celestia, and even I only knew him well at the end of his long life.”

“So?” Luna asked, “Surely you don’t suspect he had any part in this?”

“Or has, if you’re trying to make this out to be some kind of zombie-slash-ghost story!” Twilight chimed in.

Reaper smiled: “Not quite Princess, though you’re both kind of on the right track.”

He leaned back and closed his eyes: “How well can you recall his dreams, Luna?”

Luna furrowed her brow: “Hmm--not well. I’m sure he must have slept, but I am hard-pressed to call anything to mind at this time.”

Reaper nodded: “We’ll get back to that in a bit. I think it’ll make more sense when we’ve reviewed my two Starswirl death visions.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow: “Two? How can he have two death visions? Doesn’t everypony only die once?”

“Correct,” Reaper answered, “though there are some rare exceptions, most notably ponies who nearly die in accidents or of a particularly virulent disease. I have shown up on some of those occasions, anticipating death, but the pony in question pulled back at the last moment.”

“Cheating death, as it were,” Luna said.

Reaper smiled and nodded: “Literally! Though only temporarily, of course. Sooner or later I guide everypony out of this world. But some need a little more, shall we say, persuasion than others.”

“And that’s where Starswirl comes into the picture,” he explained. “He was already 97 years old when I first came to him. It was his time to go, and, well…”

Reaper’s stood, horn glowing, and beckoned his companions to follow him through the door that had just appeared before them.

The three ponies stepped into a cluttered study, filled with glassware, tools, bits of metal, cobwebs, and endless stacks, row, piles and shelves of books and scrolls.

“You’ve both been here, I trust?” Reaper asked.

Luna nodded: “Yes, though not for centuries, and not frequently. As you pointed out, Starswirl was far more in my sister’s confidence than mine.”

“And I’ve only seen it centuries after he died," Twilight said, looking around with wonder. “It’s fascinating to see it as he would have seen it!”

“Well, if you find this interesting,” Reaper nodded toward two dim figures sitting together in a darkened corner, “you’re gonna love that!”

They picked their way through the messy, crowded study until they stood next to a table. Reaper and Starswirl were at the table, arguing over a scroll while a lamp guttered nearby, throwing a dim light across the parchment.

“Dammit, you old warlock!” Reaper growled, “You’ve had 97 years! If you haven’t finished your work in that time, that’s a shame, I suppose, but not my problem!”

Starswirl leaned back and arched his eyebrows: “I am no warlock, Harbinger, you know that! I use no dark magic--at least not in its darkest form!”

Reaper rolled his eyes: “You know what I mean! You’re clearly meddling with powers here that are best left alone!” He thumped the parchment dramatically with a hoof.

“I’ve been researching the ancient texts for years!” Starswirl replied indignantly. “I think I know what I’m doing!”

Reaper leaned across the table, nostrils flaring: “And what are you doing, Starswirl?” he asked pointedly. “Why are you trying to prolong ponies’ lives unnaturally?”

“Have we not been prolonging our lives “unnaturally” for centuries?” Starswirl countered, pacing restlessly next to the table.

“Have we not increased production of better, more-nutritious crops? Have we not expanded our knowledge and skills in medicine?” He continued, “Or would you rather we simply die sooner and more-easily again, as we did in ancient days? Do we not have the right to increase the bounty of our lives in all ways?”

Reaper shook his head: “That’s not the same! Better crops and techniques have been created and discovered due to generations of diligent work by earth ponies…”

“And unicorn research, in many cases!” Starswirl interrupted.”

Reaper sighed angrily: “Yes, in conjunction with earth ponies who know agriculture best! Who have you consulted in your “research,” Starswirl? What experts? These scrolls, full of dark magic and ancient riddles?”

He stepped around the end of the table in order to confront Starswirl face-to-face.

“Does Celestia know about this?” Reaper asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sure she’d be thrilled by this, yes?”

Starswirl winced and looked away, drifting subtly toward the table.

“That’s what I thought.” Reaper concluded, loosening his blade in its sheath. “It’s time to go, old colt. You don’t need to finish this research!”

Starswirl looked at the crumpled parchment with a pained expression: “But there is so much that can be learned here, so much it can tell us about this world’s ultimate fate, and about ponies’ part in it!”

Starswirl leaned in close to the writing, intently studying several key characters. He murmured a few syllables, and two glyphs on the page glowed briefly, as did Reaper’s cutie mark.

Reaper--both past and present--blinked heavily and shook his head sharply. His sword settled back into its sheath. He brought a hoof to his muzzle and rubbed it wearily.

He sighed heavily: “Look, I have had deaths briefly escape me from time to time, and have granted a few days of grace, here and there.”

Starswirl looked up from the table intently, and held his breath.

“You have two days, Starswirl,” Reaper said turning his back to the table. “Never before have I granted a pony such a boon. Tidy-up your notes and tell Celestia what you’ve been doing! I will be back two days hence.”

Reaper faded from the scene, and the room went dark and silent.

After a moment Twilight asked, “Why are we still here? The vision's done, yes?”

“Yes, Reaper replied heavily, “but not the story. Stand by for part two.”

The room brightened again, showing little change to indicate the passage of time. Starswirl, however, had clearly aged a great deal. He pored over a heavy, gilt-edged tome.

Reaper appeared behind Starswirl silently, sword already drawn.

Luna and Twilight both gasped.

“Don’t move,” Reaper said in a calm, measured tone. “You really need to go, this time!”

Starswirl took a deep breath and slowly stood erect. He did not turn to face Reaper.

“I’m ready this time, Harbinger,” Starswirl said heavily. "I'm tired."

Reaper nodded: “After an extra twenty years, I would think so!”

Starswirl turned stiffly toward Reaper: “I’m sorry for the long deception, but I had to finish my work, and ensure it was safely secured!”

“And by “work,” I assume you mean that spell that has kept you shielded from my perception all these years?” Reaper said.

Starswirl nodded weakly and sat down: “That was a piece of it, yes. I needed to keep you at bay while I worked out the more difficult elements. But it was all for naught.” He shut the tome, titled Codex of Shadows.

He continued: “I found any number of spells designed to stave off death, or cloak myself from other great powers, or other darker things, but no spell or artifact that would genuinely extend life.”

“I’m not surprised,” Reaper commented, sitting across from Starswirl, laying his sword across the Codex. “In the end, the Cosmos is governed by entropy. No creature, no matter how great, can do anything more than merely delay its march.”

Starswirl shut his eyes tiredly: “Not without paying a terrible cost…”

Reaper peered at the old wizard suspiciously: “What have you done?”

“Nothing,” Starswirl replied, “I could never have brought myself to such a pass. That was why I took these last few extra days. That research has been put beyond all reach.”

Reaper pursed his lips: “Hmm. Well, I hope so. You informed Celestia of all this, I trust?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not cribbing another scrap of magic under your forelegs?” Reaper asked. “Once was enough.”

Starswirl rose stiffly and pointed at the table with his horn: “See for yourself.” The table was empty save for the dark, leather-bound book and the ancient, sooty lamp.

Reaper stood and levitated his sword. He walked around the table and stood to Starswirl’s right side.

Starswirl turned to face the faintly-glowing blade with tear-filled eyes: “I’m afraid…”

Reaper smiled: “You don’t look like it to me. You look like a mighty stallion meeting his fate bravely, standing on his own four hooves.”

The old unicorn closed his eyes as Reaper dipped his horn slightly, driving the blade effortlessly into Starswirl's chest.

“Tell Celestia I…” The words died on Starswirl’s lips as he sank to the floor.

Reaper withdrew the bloodless blade as a faint shimmer rose above Starswirl’s body for a moment. The old lantern’s wick burned out, sending a thin spire of soot-black smoke toward the ceiling.

The scene faded as Twilight softly wept.

A Last Royal Audience

“Starswirl lied.”

Reaper and the Princesses passed briefly through the “Waiting Room,” and woke again in Luna’s Canterlot quarters.

Twilight sniffled and wiped away a tear: “Why did he lie? He obviously never told Celestia about any of this!”

Luna shook her head: “No. I am certain I would have heard something of it. Clearly he did not tell you the truth at the end, Reaper. I wonder why?”

Reaper sucked air through his teeth: “Not sure. I suspect it was just in keeping with his secretive nature--even at the end, he couldn’t bring himself to reveal the truth. I assume he figured (correctly) that I would have gone to Celestia.”

Reaper stood up stiffly and stretched on his way to the side table. He poured himself a goblet of cider.

Twilight furrowed her brow: “Why are you drinking that? I thought you just absorbed energy from the world around you?”

Reaper smiled: “That’s true. It’s kind of a displacement activity—echoes of a bad, old habit from a former life.”

Twilight asked, “So what happens to it?”

Reaper cocked his head to one side: “Hmm. Not entirely sure. As I pass in and out of the boundaries between this world and my “waiting room,” my physical form phases from solid to insubstantial. I assume the cider simply gets lost in the translation between those states.”

Luna chuckled: “So you are leaving a stain somewhere as you move through your phases?”

Reaper shrugged: “Most likely.”

“Do you miss it?” asked Twilight.

“Miss what?”

“Any of it, all of it--actually being alive.”

Reaper’s eyebrows jumped a bit, and he emptied the goblet: “You mean eating and drinking for real? Not really. This is the first drink I’ve taken in centuries. When I came to Equestria countless millennia ago I was given a new form, and purged of any mortal fears, or wants or lusts or needs.”

He set the cup down and turned back toward the lounging alicorns.

“So the trade-off for being essentially indestructible, incorruptible and fearless, is having no need or desire for eating, drinking, playing, fighting, fucking--none of it,” Reaper concluded.

He sat on a cushion: “Do I remember those things? Sure, but they’re less substantial to me now than the death visions I carry, or even those dreams I have experienced.”

“Speaking of,” he said, turning to Luna, “do you recall any of Starswirl’s dreams?”

Luna shifted her position and nibbled at an apple slice. She pondered Reaper’s question for a minute.

“Now that you mention it, I cannot clearly recall any dreams for Starswirl,” Luna answered, “well, at least none from his later years.” She shifted uncomfortably.

Twilight raised an eyebrow: “Didn’t he sleep?”

Luna took a deep breath and considered her response for a moment: “You are aware, of course, of his mirror gateway. I wonder if he was away from our plane when sleeping. Or if his passing between worlds interfered with me somehow.”

“Or,” Reaper interjected, “he was doing to you what he did to me for twenty years.”

Luna looked startled: “Do you think so?”

Twilight nodded and took another drink of cider: “It sure looks like it to me. I guess there’s a lot we really don’t know about Starswirl. Maybe we should ask Celestia. She might be able to shed some light on this.”

Luna frowned, and Reaper answered: “I think it is pretty clear he thought Celestia would be ashamed of some of his work, and he wanted to take it to his grave, as it were. I would rather avoid bringing Celestia in if we can avoid it.”

“Well then what do we do?” Twilight asked.

Reaper tapped his hooves together lightly: “So you can’t recall anything of Starswirl’s later dreams, correct, Luna? I mean you were banished about that time, if I recall.”

Luna nodded silently, ears drooping.

“What’s the latest dream you can recall?” Reaper asked.

Luna closed her eyes and chewed her lower lip: “What few dreams of his I recall were often filled with books and scrolls and incantations. I do not see much there of any value.”

“No other ponies, no dreams of other worlds?” Reaper pressed.

Luna looked off into the distance, focusing on a time, hundreds of years in the past. Twilight yawned.

Luna repositioned herself on her cushion and held her horn high: “Come. There may be information, here--you two can judge it as well.”

The three companions were back in Luna’s ruined dream hall moments later, eyes adjusting to the dark, Luna illuminating the space as Twilight and Reaper headed for the banner-portal.

“My perspective is somewhat untrustworthy in this dream,” said Luna nervously as she rose to the flickering portal as well, “as I am (or a vision of me is, at any rate) in it as a participant. You two may be better able to untangle this obscured tableau, as I fear it has more to do with me than Starswirl himself.”

“How interesting,” Twilight said. “I wonder what it would be like to observe a dream me?”

Reaper chuckled as Luna raised an eyebrow and responded dryly, “I suspect you would find it quite uncomfortable. You figure far more prominently in a variety of, shall we say, romantically-inclined dreams, now that you are famous.”

Twilight blushed furiously and stepped through the portal.

She materialized alone at the edge of an ancient, ruined coliseum.

“Luna? Reaper?” she called out, looking around for her companions. She noticed the indigo alicorn at the opposite end of the structure, about half-way up the crumbling seats. She took off and flew toward Luna.

“I do not understand any of this,” Luna was saying to Starswirl, who was seated on a broken marble column.

She loomed over Starswirl and demanded, “Why do you keep involving my sister in your pointless gallivanting? She has far more important tasks that require her attention!”

Twilight stopped and hovered, realizing she was seeing a vision of Luna from the past, arguing with Starswirl.

“How could you understand?” Starswirl countered, standing and bristling, “You have no sense of adventure! You brood and whine and resent those who actually strive to bring new knowledge and experiences to Equestria!”

“You should be glad I lack a sense of adventure, you fool!” she spat, unfurling her wings, “My power far exceeds yours, and rivals even that of my thrill-seeking sister!”

Starswirl staggered back a step as if hit by an invisible blow. Luna’s wings began to stir the dust, and whip it into a growing, darkening whirlwind. Twilight noticed that the cracked and decaying seats now held the bones of scores of creatures--some ponies, but many clearly not.

The bones began to haphazardly assemble into partial, jumbled skeletons, which then applauded, as Luna and Starswirl sparred and stumbled among the ruined aisles and seats.

“Yours is only the power of anger and bitterness, Luna!” Starswirl shouted above the wind, his horn glowing, slashing at the towering funnel.

Twilight flew in closer, and noticed some of the skeletal apparitions had begun to take on more-complete forms. Her eye was also caught by movement on the far edge of the coliseum--Reaper and Luna-of-the-present were making their way toward the confrontation.

Dream Luna glared at Starswirl, and fanned the funnel with her wings, trying to blow it over him. The base of the funnel was carving through the skeletal spectators, blowing them apart, leaving a glistening black trail like oil in its wake.

Reaper and Luna-of-the-present were at a full gallop on the coliseum’s open field, but weren’t making any apparent progress, and Twilight now saw many ponies and creatures clearly: colors, limbs, shapes, and cutie marks, in the case of ponies.

Most were cheering on Starswirl, but some began to fall on their neighbors, rending them asunder, reducing them, too, to oily, black patches.

The crowd of creatures--complete and partial, skeletal and flesh began to howl, matching the intensity of the shrieking wind. They were sucked up into the funnel by the dozens, streaking it black.

Dream Luna spread her wings wide and hovered, stock-still in the air: “Enough!” she shouted as the scene froze.

Starswirl stood tall, shaking dust and bone fragments from his mane, sparks flying from his horn. He scanned the scene and squinted at the few ponies and others who remained.

“Why are you here?!” he demanded of the remaining apparitions.

They applauded again, and pointed to the sky, where Dream Luna had now placed herself before the blackening funnel, wings spread beyond the bounds of the crumbling stadium. The funnel surrounded and subsumed her, turning her into a glossy black silhouette.

“But this is my world!” Starswirl shouted, firing bolts of energy at his remaining audience, popping each one like a bloody bubble.

The last spectator, a pale gray unicorn with a cutie mark of twisted brier answered: “Not for long!”

The vision collapsed with a mighty roar, like an avalanche, and Twilight felt herself pulled from the sky, sucked into the black maelstrom.

Rewind

Twilight sat up with a start, gasping for air, her horn glowing brightly, throwing deep shadows across the floor of Luna’s half-lit royal quarters. She looked at Luna’s slumbering form and Reaper’s still, semi-opaque body with concern.

“Luna--wake up!” she cried, shaking the Princess by shoulders. Luna’s eyes fluttered and half-opened.

“Wha--where?” she stammered, blinking dully, trying to focus on Twilight’s face.

“Oh, thank Celestia you’re alright!” Twilight cried in relief, turning toward Reaper.

She slowly reached out a hoof and gingerly poked at Reaper’s shoulder. Her hoof appeared to pass through his cloak and hide, leaving a faint ripple.

Twilight grimaced and drew back quickly: “Ugh! That was weird!”

Reaper smiled and glanced up at Twilight’s startled expression: “Well, considering at any given moment I’m not really even here, I’m sure it did feel odd. I don’t think even I could tell you what you just prodded!”

“How--or why did we end up back here and not in your dreamscape base?” Twilight asked Luna, pouring a chalice of cider for herself and her fellow Princess.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Luna replied, groggily. “It may be because the dream collapsed so suddenly and precipitously without my ever having any real control over it.”

Reaper nodded: “That’s certainly how it looked to me, too--you appeared to be stuck in the dream like a normal pony participant, not above and outside it as you usually are. Was the vision or dream Luna actually more in control than you?”

“That is possible,” Luna conceded. “I had at least one conversation with Starswirl very much like the one you saw portrayed in that dream. It is possible that the Luna we saw was almost “real,” in a sense. I was so imprinted on Starswirl, that when he had this dream, and I observed it, I became a living part of it.”

Luna stood and stretched, then bit her lip: “I believe it is now my turn to use the facilities--excuse me.” She trotted off briskly across the marble floor toward the bathroom, her hooves ringing brightly as she went.

Twilight watched Luna withdraw, and turned to Reaper: “But why wasn’t I affected? Why could I hover above it and get close?”

“Excellent question,” Reaper replied, “why could you? Luna’s the only one who has freedom to maneuver in dreams. That I was stuck having to run against the wind, is normal. You shouldn’t have been able to fly.”

Twilight drained her cup: “And why weren’t we together? I watched a couple of minutes before you two showed up.”

Luna approached: “Much better!” She sighed and sat back down amidst her cushions.

“I believe I may have an answer,” she continued. “You have endured great and awesome trials, the likes of which no pony has ever experienced. You have undergone the rarest of transformations, your innate skill is magic itself, and you were briefly the vessel for an almost unimaginable reservoir of primal power."

Luna leveled her intense gaze at Twilight: “You may end up the most powerful magic wielder since Starswirl himself!”

Reaper raised his eyebrows: “If you aren’t already!”

He looked at Luna and furrowed his brow: “You may be onto something, Princess. Twilight may, indeed, transcend many of the normal boundaries. Some of the old rules just may not entirely apply to her anymore.”

Twilight looked away and stammered, “Quit--quit it, you two! You’re embarrassing me!”

Reaper grinned: “Fine--prove us right: did you see anything that might help us suss out our mystery unicorn’s identity?”

“Maybe, Twilight said. “I saw a lot of very strange stuff, but I do recall one figure standing out right at the end. He shouted something…”

“That sounds like as good a lead as any, Kiddo!” Reaper replied, settling back on his pillows.

He nodded toward Luna: “Take us away, Princess!”

They found themselves again directly below the portal-banner in Luna’s dream quarters.

Luna began to rise toward the glowing opening, saying, “This time, Twilight, we should drop in right at the end of the dream, and we will maintain contact, all three of us, as we step through. Hopefully we will not be separated this time.”

Reaper nodded as he, too, rose toward the flickering images: “And you’ll be the focal point this time. Luna and I will touch our horns to your temples.”

Twilight swallowed hard as the three ponied linked forelegs and slipped through the banner, emerging over Starswirl and Dream Luna in the wrecked coliseum.

“Why are you here?!” Starswirl shouted at the various applauding creatures and ponies that had not yet been taken up into the funnel.

Twilight drifted lower as Luna and Reaper touched their horns to her head, and turned their attention to the remaining ponies, now pointing up at the dark, growing figure of Luna, enrobed by the black-banded whirlwind.

Starswirl lashed out, destroying figure after figure: “But this is my world!”

Luna’s face was lined with pain, and her gaze was fixed on her dream self. But Twilight and Reaper’s eyes now fell on the lone, gray unicorn, who smirked and replied, “Not for long!”

The dream dissolved away less violently this time, and Twilight caught a glimpse of the unknown unicorn stepping in the path of the whirlwind as it bore down on the dejected figure of Starswirl.

“Brier.” Luna said.

“What?”

“Brier. His cutie mark appeared to be twisted branches of thorny brier,” Luna explained.

Twilight nodded: “OK, brier. So do you recognize him? Did he have any dreams? When did he die? Was he real, or just a dream character?”

Luna shook her head: “I do not recall any dreams of a pony who looked like him. A name might help, if he truly did exist.”

Reaper shrugged: “If he was real, he never died--which would certainly fit our hypothesis.”

“So how do we unravel this piece of the mystery?” Twilight asked.

“I suspect you may hold the key to this phase,” said Luna. “If he was real, and was known by Starswirl enough to appear prominently in a dream, he must be in the old scholar’s notes somewhere.”

Twilight brightened: “That’s true! Now I can take the lead for a bit, and hopefully let my nerves calm down a little. To the library!”

Reaper rolled his eyes, and Luna smiled as the three companions faded out.

G.T.

They awoke in Luna’s chambers, well past evening. The orange glow in the western sky had been replaced by deep blue-gold hues, accentuated by several bright stars.

“So, where first, Twilight?” asked Reaper. “I assume you know the library and its various nooks and crannies as well as anypony.”

Twilight shrugged: “Well, the Royal Archivist surely knows them better than I, but I do know my way around!”

“Lead on, then,” Luna said, heading toward the far end of the chamber, and out into the hallway.

Her guard noticed Twilight, then Reaper, and fell back, wide-eyed and sweating.

“Will-will you be needing an escort, your highness?” asked the Captain of the Guard, in a halting voice.

Luna shook her head and walked past: “No, thank you. I’m sure we can manage on our own. Please continue to await our return, and see to it that my quarters are not disturbed.”

The three ponies made their way down several wide staircases and hallways, until they came to the closed and locked great doors of the Royal Library and Scriptorium.

“Hmm,” Twilight mused, “I wonder if anypony’s around to let us in this late at night?”

“Sure,” Reaper responded, walking directly toward the doors, “I am!”

He passed effortlessly through the door, which opened a moment later from the inside with a soft click.

Twilight grinned: “That’s cheating! But since most of the doors in this place have anti-magic dampening spells cast on them, that may have been the only quiet way to do it!”

“My thought exactly,” Reaper concurred, holding the door open for the Princesses. “Come on in.”

“So,” he said, closing the door and turning toward the great shelves and stacks arrayed four stories high across the length and breadth of the room, “where to begin? I assume you’d already have mentioned having seen anything in the main body of the library--the sort of thing that would be in the formal catalog, for instance.”

Twilight nodded as she worked her way deeper between the set of shelves, looking for a set of back stairs which led down into the lower, archival sections: “Right--that’s why we have to go down. A few floors below this, below even the Archivist’s chambers, lie Starswirl’s private collections.”

All three ponies increased their horns’ glow as they descended the narrow staircase. Reaper raised an eyebrow: “Well, I doubt we’ll find those collections undisturbed.”

“No,” Luna concurred, “they were tagged and cataloged long ago. But the rooms themselves were left largely intact, as a sort of museum.”

“Like his more extensive laboratories and chambers below the main castle,” Twilight added.

Luna nodded: “Correct.”

“Still, we might find clues in some of the old tomes and papers,” Twilight said, ducking through a low opening. “I’m familiar with most of his best-preserved and archived scrolls and documents, but his private collection room may still generate a surprise or two.”

Reaper looked around at the carefully arranged and curated space as he, too, passed through the doorway: “Yeah--it’s a surprise they didn’t just get it over with and turn it into a gift shop.”

Luna furrowed her brow: “Yes, it does look rather “picked-over,” doesn’t it?”

“Well,” Twilight conceded, “I must admit, there sure doesn’t seem to be nearly as much stuff in here as there was in those death visions. Still, it can’t hurt to look around…”

She and Luna began to flip through the various books and scrolls that were on display, as well as some of the shelved material, much of which appeared to be various reference guides on plants and insects.

“Ooh--Fluttershy might like this!” Twilight said happily as she flipped through a volume on dragonflies.

Reaper sighed and sat down in the chair that had been last occupied by Starswirl, many centuries before. He let his eyes play over the walls and ceiling and various bookcases.

He tipped his head sideways like a cat, and squinted at the back of the room, focusing on a gap between two bookshelves. He stood and began walking toward it.

Luna caught his motion out of the corner of her eye: “What do you see, Reaper?”

“Maybe nothing,” he replied. “Let me take a look at something before I give you a definitive answer.”

He phased nearly out-of-sight and stuck his head between the bookshelves, and into the wall.

Luna and Twilight moved closer, hearing his muffled voice from inside the wall: “Were you aware there’s another stairway behind this wall?”

Both Princesses were taken aback: “Where does it go?” Twilight asked.

“Not entirely sure,” came his muffled reply. “Let me see how far down it goes, and if there are magical wards that would prevent you from teleporting.”

A minute later Reaper’s head poked back out through the wall: “Some old wards, but they’ve largely faded. Shouldn’t present any problem for you two. Come on through!”

He slipped back through the stonework, and the alicorns followed moments later, generating dual flashes with attendant “pops” echoing in the now-vacant room.

They brightened their horns and worked their way down several dozen narrow, cracking stone stairs until they passed under a crude archway, and into an equally-crude chamber, a bit larger than the study they had just left.

“I’ll bet no curator’s been down in this room,” Reaper observed, running a hoof across a dust-laden table.

“I doubt anypony has even known this was here for the last millennium!” replied Twilight, turning around slowly, looking for anything noteworthy on the barren shelves.

Luna examined a broken bookcase and overturned chair closely: “It appears whoever was in here last was quite thorough in their ransacking.”

Reaper nodded, pointing to a shattered chest in the far corner: “This wasn’t Starswirl packing up and relocating, this was somepony tossing the room and taking whatever they could find.”

“But what did they find?” Twilight wondered, pushing aside an overturned table.

Reaper pointed to a tattered book, uncovered as Twilight moved the table: “Well, they didn’t find that, whatever it is.”

Luna leaned down and picked the book up with her magic, opening it and holding it aloft so all three ponies could examine it.

“An old diary!” Twilight exclaimed.

“So it would appear. Lay it down on the big table, Luna, so the spine lays flat and we can take a better look,” requested Reaper.

She laid the open diary on the table and began to flip through the remaining pages: “Clearly many pages were torn out. Perhaps our ransacker did indeed find what they wanted.”

Reaper furrowed his brow, and leaned in close to the remaining pages: “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t leave anything of value behind.”

Twilight leaned down as well: “New notes on high-level heat transference--13 Blue. Updated entry on lunar phase shifts for C--15 Green. R.A. requested...requested,” she squinted at the page, “I can’t make that next word out…”

Reaper moved in another inch and tentatively replied, “it looks like “necrosis notes--15 Red.” I wonder what the number-color references mean?”

Luna was not at the table, concentrating instead on a large, empty wall-mounted shelf: “I suspect it has to do with these tags.”

She pointed to a series of small brass plaques mounted every few inches on the edge of each shelf.

Twilight pricked up her ears and turned to examine Luna’s discovery. Reaper continued to pore over the remaining pages of the tattered book.

“Oh--it makes sense, now!” Twilight said, “Well, some of it makes sense, anyway. I think that book or diary or whatever it is, must be a sort of guide to books that were on this set of shelves.”

She blew a layer of dust off a shelf: “11, 12, 13, 14, 15, and so on. He probably kept a book at each of these locations.”

“Maybe more than one,” Reaper interjected, still intently studying the book. “There are reoccurring references to blue, green, red and yellow. I suspect there were multiple volumes under each number, cross-referenced by color.”

Luna turned back toward Reaper and the table: “Perhaps the colors corresponded to some sort of categories.”

Twilight nodded thoughtfully: “That would be a decent, quick system for a single pony, who could keep the rubric straight in his head.”

“Or ponies,” Reaper replied.

“Ponies?” Luna queried. “You believe more than just Starswirl had access to these materials?”

Reaper flipped back and forth through a series of pages: “There are a few initials that show up repeatedly. I’m going to assume this golden ‘C’ refers to Celestia, while the dark blue ‘L’ is for you, Luna. And there are others scattered throughout.”

Twilight returned to the table, standing close to Reaper, looking over his shoulder.

“Yes,” she said, watching the entries pass by, brows furrowed. “I see what you mean. Lots of entries with various initials. Most seem to be some kind of request.”

She pointed to an entry reading “G.T. updated tables in 19--Red. Must double-check.”

“But this one,” she continued, “seems to indicate that “G.T.” had access to volume 19.”

“And who is “G.T.?”” wondered Luna.

“That is the question of the hour, isn’t it?” Reaper replied, leafing through the remaining pages. “I don’t see a key, or index, or anything like that…”

“Well, he wouldn’t really need one, would he?” said Twilight as she backed away from the table and began to investigate the broken chest.

“No, I suppose he wouldn’t,” Reaper admitted, walking slowly toward the numbered shelves, probing with his horn, phasing slightly, dipping down to the floor occasionally.

Luna noticed his odd behavior: “What do you seek?”

“Not sure,” Reaper muttered as he stuck his head sideways between two shelves.

“This side of the room has rough paneling,” he observed.

Luna raised an eyebrow: “Do you suspect more hidden spaces?”

“Actually, yes,” he admitted, “though not on this wall. That’d be too crude.”

“No,” he said, stepping back and tugging at the shelf with his magic, “but maybe something got knocked off a high shelf and slipped in behind those loose panels when this place was being tossed.”

The dry wood split with a crack as it pulled away from the wall, causing loose stones and splinters to shower down on the remaining shelves. A thin red book, similar in style to the diary, fell out of a small gap as the paneling gave way.

Twilight stepped in quickly and retrieved the slender volume: “Well what have we here?”

She took it back to the table and opened it while Reaper and Luna investigated the loosened and crumbling panels for additional clues.

Reaper squinted, and the glow from his horn changed to a darker hue: “Do you notice any burn marks on that book, Twilight? Magical burns?”

She looked up from the table: “Yes--how did you know?”

He stepped away from the now-broken shelves and splintered wall: “Because there are traces of magical burns on the top of this shelf and the wall directly behind.”

Twilight returned to her study of the book, as Luna and Reaper made their way back to the table.

Luna leaned in close: “Yes--clearly somepony fired a magical blast at that shelf, scoring this book, and likely knocking it behind that loose panel.”

“That’s my take on it, too,” Reaper said, moving around Twilight’s shoulder for a better look. “So how much damage did it cause?”

Twilight grimaced: “Quite a lot, actually. Many of the pages are scorched black, or are too brittle to touch.” A page crumbled as she pointed this out.

“Crap!” Reaper cursed. “We have to able to get something out of this book!”

Luna’s horn gleamed blinding white for an instant, and the book was sliced in two down the length of its spine. Twilight and Reaper jerked back in surprise.

“Why’d you do that, Luna?” asked Twilight.

“It appears the back half of the book is relatively intact,” She replied. “We can magically stabilize the fragile front half and take it back for further investigation. We should be able to glean something out of the second half while here in this room.”

Reaper grinned and tipped his horn: “Good thinking, your Highness!”

Luna rolled her eyes: “So what can we see in the remaining part?”

Twilight read:

“Clearly the key lies not in rebuilding cells, but in not letting them age in the first place. I will try again to break whatever code is on that small, bone-covered tome G.T. calls “Codex Os.” He seems to be making a bit of progress with its companion, “Codex Cruor.””

“But it’s hard going. I never seem able to remember what I read from that volume for very long. I need to have G.T. re-check my notes before I close out volume 19.”

Twilight flipped through a few badly-damaged pages, looking for anything readable, and continued:

“Almost discovered today. If G.T. hadn’t renewed both upper and lower glyphs and wards, R.A. might have found out. The lower way may be too risky given the work below; may need to seal it sometime. Maybe the new wards will hold. G.T. say they’re old family magic. I must investigate--might be useful for other…”

“I can’t make out anything more on this page after “other.” The page was actually ripped, along with the next two,” Twilight explained. “But that’s OK--they appear to be blank.”

Luna’s expression had become increasingly puzzled as Twilight read: “Glyphs and wards” I understand. I assume he meant the secret protected passage we used to come to this chamber.”

Reaper nodded.

“But what,” Luna continued, “did he meant by “upper” and “lower?””

“I would guess there’s another passage around here somewhere,” Twilight conjectured, gently turning a few more pages, looking for additional writing.

“The old wizard did like his secret passages, didn’t he?” Reaper said, changing the hue of his horn again as Twilight turned another page.

Luna chewed her lip and snorted: “And who in Tartarus was G.T.?!”

Reaper looked up: “Is G.T., you mean. I suspect he’s our mystery unicorn stallion. He was obviously working closely with Starswirl, unbeknownst to anypony else.”

“And he must have been very powerful himself, if Starswirl put him in charge of the wards and glyphs,” Twilight added.

Reaper nodded grimly: “And if that old fool really was close to finding the spells needed to unnaturally extend pony life, clearly G.T. would have been right there.”

Luna furrowed her brow: “Your final death vision!”

Twilight brought a hoof to her mouth in alarm: “He said “that research has been put beyond all reach!” But what if…”

Reaper cut in: “...it wasn’t beyond G.T.’s reach? Yeah…” He sighed heavily. “Deceptions within deceptions.”

Reaper turned away from the table and paced among the litter and debris on the floor.

“It’s clear Starswirl was deceiving me as to the true nature of his final “work.” It wasn’t just the Codex of Shadows and that parchment he had, it was other material, even darker--intended not to to merely mask or cloak, but to actually stretch out a life-span.”

“And you believe this G.T. then deceived Starswirl as to his intentions?” Luna asked.

Reaper looked at the floor and scuffed shapes in the dust: “As Twilight so eloquently put it, “Starswirl lied.” I doubt he was the only one.”

Luna shook her head sadly and began silently reading the page currently open.

Reaper closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them slowly, frowning: “Twilight?”

“Yes?” she replied.

“You said there were blank, partially-torn pages after the last one you read aloud, correct?”

Twilight nodded: “That’s right. A couple of damaged pages, then we’re back into diary-type entries.”

Reaper licked his lips: “Starswirl didn’t seem like the type not to cram information on every page, did he?”

Luna tipped her head to one side: “What are you implying?”

Reaper walked back to the table and lifted the torn volume, turning back to the blank pages, tipping them back and forth, changing his horn’s hue and intensity, holding each page up to the light of his companions’ horn, as though he was trying to look through the pages. He froze.

“What is it?” Twilight asked nervously.

“Please step closer, Luna,” he said, never taking his eyes off the page.

She stepped forward: “What is it?”

“Please run through the gamut of your horn’s colors and range.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, but complied. The radiance of her horn shifted through the full spectrum of colors, and ranged from imperceptibly-dim, dark violet to blinding-bright white.

Reaper brought a hoof up to his chin and tapped it, all the while staring at the page: “Now give me dark.”

“I beg your pardon?” Luna replied.

Reaper gave out a short, impatient sigh: “Come on--you know what I mean. Make your horn glow with dark magic.”

A worried look crossed her face, but she closed her eyes, and the length of her horn blossomed with a black, unearthly glow.

Symbols and shapes suddenly shown through the page Reaper was holding out.

Twilight’s eyes grew wide and she gasped: “He used dark magic?!”

“Yes,” Reaper replied, “but which “he,” I wonder?”

Luna shook her head sadly: “Both, we must assume.”

“Can you make out what that says at the bottom of the page, Twilight? Right where it’s torn away?” Reaper asked.

“G-R-E-Y…” she said slowly, “T-H-O-R, or maybe U-R...I can’t make anymore of it out. It’s kind of like a signature, and the page tear cuts through the end.”

Luna spoke slowly and distinctly: “Grey Thorn.”

Reaper’s eyebrows jumped: “You know, or knew him?”

Luna stepped back and stretched her neck wearily: “I cannot be sure, but that name would match our mystery unicorn’s color and cutie mark. In addition, do you recall Starswirl’s comment about G.T.’s “old family magic?””

Reaper nodded, knitting his brows: “What family, do you think?”

“A name of “Thorn,” with that mark, might indicate he was a scion of the Highbriar family, an old, aristocratic unicorn family, before Canterlot was even established,” Luna explained.

Reaper nodded slowly, “I recall that name. I believe the line died out about 500 years ago. The last Baronet died without issue. He actually had a child--a filly--but she died of an illness in foalhood. He followed several years later.”

“And if Grey Thorn did possess “old family magic,” that certainly would have made him a prime candidate to apprentice under Starswirl,” Twilight said as she surreptitiously created her own dark magic glow, and continued to inspect the pages.

“Well,” Reaper said heavily, “it looks like we have a description, a name, and a bit of background. Now if only he hadn’t done such an outstanding job of erasing himself from history!”

Luna turned toward Twilight: “I glimpsed you using your own bit of dark magic behind our backs to further explore that text. I would advise against making a habit of that.”

Twilight blushed, but responded, “I normally wouldn’t but I know how important this is! And I got a better look at more of the glyphs on the second page. I don’t recall seeing them in the stairway we came down.”

“Oh, I doubt they were there just for practice,” Reaper said. “Luna, would you be so kind as to sweep the back wall with your dark magic? It shouldn’t take much.”

She stepped away from the others, lowered her head, and let the dark glow of her horn bathe the wall furthest from the entrance. A small, round symbol glowed faintly down near the floor.

Twilight looked at it, and cocked an eyebrow: “It looks like one of the symbols from the parchment Starswirl read in your first death vision of him.”

“Interesting. I wonder what happens if I try to pass through?” Reaper said, phasing as he approached the wall.

His head disappeared through the wall, though the rest of him was clearly meeting resistance.

Luna and Twilight came toward Reaper, hearing his frustrated grunting beyond the stony surface.

“How are you faring?” Luna asked.

“Not well,” came Reaper’s muffled response. “It’s clear these are the “lower” wards, and they’re in a lot better shape. In addition, even if you came through, it wouldn’t help.”

“Why not?” asked Twilight, pressing her ear against the stone.

He stumbled backwards into the room, nearly phasing into Luna: “This passageway was collapsed long ago, and then somepony used magic fire to actually melt some of the stone in place, making it nearly impossible to clear away. I don’t think this is a useful route at this time.”

All three stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other.

“So now what?” Twilight asked.

Reaper rubbed his muzzle and sat down on a low side table: “I don’t know. We know what he looks like--or looked like, at any rate. We have a probable name, a cutie mark, and some assumptions about who he was and why he was with Starswirl.”

Luna nodded: “But we have no clue when or how he may strike next. Without cover of Nightmare Moon’s darkness, he will likely have to change his approach.”

“But he already has,” Twilight retorted. “He took Dew Drop from inside a dream…”

“As far as we know,” Reaper interjected.

“Well let’s assume he did,” Twilight continued. “So, he can strike quickly and leave almost no trace. How do we get ahead of him? Finding the next Dew Drop doesn’t really help, even if we know now what we’re looking for!”

Luna straightened up and composed herself, sternly: “I shall have to be more vigilant going forward. I must redouble my dream patrols so I am aware of any unnatural darkness at its first appearance!”

Reaper nodded and stood up: “And I’m coming with you.”

Luna and Twilight’s faces both registered the same shock: “You? Why?” Luna asked.

“Because if I’m with you, I can move through the dreamscape and double our chances of finding Grey Thorn before he strikes again,” Reaper answered. “Four eyes are better than two.”

Twilight gently scooped up the various books and fragments they had found and followed her companions to the exit.

She stopped at the threshold, looked back and shook her head sadly.

The sepulchral dark returned as she left the room and picked her way back up the narrow, crude stairway.

Assignments

Luna returned to her quarters, with Reaper and Twilight following close behind. They found a mix of Night Guard and Royal Guard standing watch nervously outside the door.

Luna addressed the lead gold-clad pegasus: “Why are you here, Bright Point? Has there been some kind of trouble?”

“No, Princess,” he replied, eyeing Reaper nervously. “Your sister asked us to come down to your chambers and report back.”

“Well,” Luna responded, “you may go back and tell Celestia that all is well, and that there is no cause for concern.”

The chamber doors swung wide, and Celestia stepped into the opening: “I’ll be the judge of that!”

Both Guard units, black and blue, white and gold, fell back, making way for Luna and her companions to join Celestia inside Luna’s now-sunlit quarters. The doors closed with a heavy thud as they passed through.

“Where have you three been all night?” Celestia demanded. “I’ve had members of both our Guards out since dawn, looking for you!”

Twilight lifted the tattered books and fragments up for Celestia to see: “We discovered that Starswirl had another, secret study hidden below the one we already know about!”

“‘Tis true, sister,” added Luna, “there was clearly more going on with Starswirl than anypony suspected.”

Celestia walked over to the side table and took a scone from a hammered copper tray. Twilight noticed, and gave Celestia a quizzical look.

“What--these?” she said, lifting the scone to her mouth, “I saw you had some food and drink here already, so I had a guard bring a little more. I’m not a big fan of fruit, you know.”

She popped the scone in her mouth, and chewed for a moment.

She swallowed, and poured three goblets of cider, as she asked, “What do you mean “more?” More what?”

Reaper walked to the other side of the table and reclined on a low sofa: “He was working on spells and wards to block my ability to sense him, and to shield his dreams from Luna.”

Celestia furrowed her brow as she levitated two of the goblets to the other Princesses: “Why would he do that?”

Luna and Reaper glanced nervously at each other, as Twilight sipped noisily at her cider.

“This stuff is really good, Princess Celestia!” she said loudly and emphatically. “Where did it come from? It doesn’t taste local. I think I’ll bring some to Applejack and ask...”

“Twilight--please! Don’t try to stall!” Celestia turned to Luna sharply: “What is he talking about, Luna?”

Luna’s ears drooped: “He was using dark magic in an effort to unnaturally extend ponies’ lives, and he did not wish for me to see his dreams.”

“And, he bought himself an extra twenty years by way of a little dark magic and some good, old-fashioned subterfuge,” Reaper added.

Celestia couldn’t hide her shock: “But--but, why? Was he seeking power, was he looking to cure some infirmity he was hiding? Did it have to do with his portal trips?”

Twilight sat down on her cushions: “We don’t really know his motives, but we think we have a handle on his acolyte’s.”

Celestia’s eyebrows jumped, and she reached for more cider: “Acolyte? Who?”

Luna circled back around the table and levitated a scone for herself: “Do you recall the Highbrier clan?”

Celestia considered for a minute: “Yes. I especially remember old Burl at the groundbreaking for this castle.”

“We believe Starswirl’s secret acolyte was a scion of that family, named Gray Thorn,” Luna said.

“Do you know what he looked like?” Celestia asked.

Twilight stood and walked to her: “Touch my horn and I’ll show you the best image we have of him, taken from one of the few Starswirl dreams Luna has.”

Celestia leaned down and touched Twilight’s horn. They both closed their eyes and all was still for a moment.

Celestia lifted her head high, again: “I don’t recognize him, but I’m sure you’re right about the lineage, Luna: he definitely looks like a Highbrier, and that cutie mark is familiar.”

“The last Baronet and his young filly died some 500 years ago, ending the line,” Reaper said, peering into the vaulted ceiling, looking again for the eyes.

Celestia stared into the distance: “So many names and faces over so many years. I can’t keep them all straight. We’ll need to talk to the Royal Archivist and Genealogist.”

Reaper took a deep breath and faced Celestia: “Actually, Twilight’s going to have to handle that task. We need to know if there’s anything at all on Grey Thorn anywhere outside Starswirl’s known archives. We also need detailed maps of the old chambers and mines below the original castle--the ones that were closed-off in when the foundations were completed.”

“Why?” Celestia asked.

Luna chimed in: “It appears there are chambers even deeper below Starswirl’s study than the secret one we found. But they are blocked and magically sealed.”

“Somepony used a variation of the ward used to block me, then at some point the stairway was collapsed, and magical fire used to fuse the rubble,” Reaper explained.

“Alright,” Celestia said, turning toward the young Princess, “but why is Twilight alone tasked with this?”

Luna levitated a strawberry up into the dim recesses of the ceiling: “Reaper will be joining me in the dreamscape in order to double our lookout for Grey Thorn.”

Celestia’s wings suddenly rustled and flared out: “What?! You’re taking him through ponies’ dreams?!”

Luna nodded, and spoke reassuringly: “Yes, sister. I believe he can stay sufficiently obscured to prevent panic or nightmares, and he will double my ability to catch Grey Thorn before he strikes, instead of lamenting the dead afterward.”

Reaper stretched out on his sofa, and rolled to his back: “My only real concern with tracking Grey Thorn in the dreamscape, is he may sense our increased presence, and shy away from revealing himself.”

“But you can obscure yourself, yes?” Luna asked. “That should remove you as impediment to stealth.”

“Yes,” he admitted, “but I suspect he, like Starswirl before him, assumes my presence at all times, and wards against it.”

He sat up and sighed: “I guess all we can do is try, and see if he shows his hoof.”

Twilight finished her cup, set it down and chewed her lower lip: “What if you made things more inviting for him? Made it so he wouldn’t notice you so much?”

“What do you mean?” Luna asked.

Twilight tapped her front hooves together nervously: “What if you, Luna, darkened the dreamscape--not to nightmare levels, but something cloudy and ominous. Give some cover to your activities, maybe make him feel a little overconfident.”

Reaper rubbed his chin: “Not a bad idea! Maybe he won’t question the change in atmosphere. After all, the dreamscape has hardly been all that stable for centuries!”

“No--too risky!” Celestia said, slamming her golden-shod hoof on the side table for emphasis, upsetting a bowl of fruit. “He could strike again without either of you being aware in time!”

Luna frowned: “That is a risk in any event, sister. As we know from poor Dew Drop, he can strike now in mere moments. Perhaps a darker setting will put him more at-ease, as he clearly was during my time as Nightmare Moon.”

Celestia paced nervously: “I don’t like it. It puts our subjects in danger, it may even put you in danger, Luna!”

Reaper raised an eyebrow: “I doubt he’d try to attack her directly, especially not in the dreamscape, where her power is greatest!”

“That’s not the kind of danger I meant,” she replied sharply. “I fear for her if she starts to use darkness again, even if it’s for a good reason!”

Reaper pursed his lips, recalling Luna’s armor-scrap-salvaging “hobby.” He held his tongue.

“I appreciate the concern, sister,” Luna replied, “but Reaper has shown himself to be well-attuned to my fears and doubts, and their attendant risks. I believe, should I begin to drift, he would bring me back to my true self.”

Twilight stood up, walked over, and sat back down next to Luna: “I’ve been with these two for many hours now, and I’ve experienced some awful things. But I never doubted their dedication to solving this crime, and I’ve never doubted Luna’s commitment to her life here with all of us!”

She leaned over and hugged Luna.

Celestia smiled nervously: “I guess we don’t really have a choice. Twilight, whenever you’re ready you will have complete access to whatever staff or materials you need to get to the bottom of this Grey Thorn’s history.”

She walked over and knelt before Luna: “And you go do what you have to do, but be careful! I lost you to the darkness once--I can’t take that again!”

Luna hugged her sister and settled back into her cushions.

“What? No hugs for me?” Reaper asked, holding out his forelegs.

Luna rolled her eyes as Twilight giggled.

Celestia turned to him with narrowed gaze, eyes ablaze: “Get that monster, and we’ll see!”

Reaper grinned as Luna’s dream tendril reached out for his horn.

Patrol

Luna settled gently in front of a fountain in Fillydelphia, with Reaper appearing beside her moments later. He looked around to get his bearings.

“Why Fillydelphia?” he asked.

Luna began walking toward a young mare who was clearly struggling over a pile of books and papers: “I have not been here in a few days, so there is a better-than-usual chance that the ponies here may be experiencing troubling dreams.”

She pointed toward the panicked, lemon-yellow earth pony, who was losing control of the now-growing, sprawling collection of notes and schoolwork: “Poor Sunny here, for instance.”

Reaper nodded: “I understand. So I guess it’s time I fade out, and start patrolling a bit on my own. I’ll circle back in a bit.”

As Reaper faded to a mere shadow, Luna turned away and addressed a now-hyperventilating Sunny: “What is it, Sunny? Are you concerned with your upcoming exams, again?”

“Oh, Princess Luna!” She cried, “Thank the stars you’re here! I just can’t get any sleep with all this worrying, and I know I’ll do even worse on the exam if I can’t get some sleep!”

Luna smiled: “Sunny, let me help clear your mind by clearing away this schoolwork…”

Reaper lost Luna and Sunny’s conversation as he trotted away down a dark alleyway that suddenly appeared in the distance, to the left of the fountain.

He heard scuffling and angry shouting as he rounded a corner, and saw a pair of unicorns slashing at each other with their horns, circling each other, with hate burning in their eyes.

“I’m sick of the shit you keep putting the folks through!” said the first unicorn, a dark red stallion.

His adversary, a pale blue mare spat back: “You don’t care, you lying fuck! You just want their bits when they die, and you’re going to smear me all you can to get them!”

She then shot a bolt of magic at the stallion: “So, if you mean “telling my side of the story” when you say “putting them through shit,” you’re damn right!”

The stallion ducked the bolt, and charged his opponent, horn glowing: “Your side? You mean the side where you’re drinking all our inheritance, you drunken bitch?"

He threw himself at the mare, knocking her to the ground, firing a blast of white-hot energy at her face, point-blank.

Reaper moved in a bit closer, trying to stay in the shadows, attempting to discern exactly who the dreamer was, and who was the dream.

“How does Luna keep this stuff straight?” He mused as the mare screamed and writhed, her face melting away.

The stallion slashed repeatedly with his horn, opening great flaming gashes across the mare’s neck and shoulder: “Just die and leave everypony in peace, you pile of shit-trash!”

A grey mist began to form along the ground; Reaper pricked up his ears and leaned in closer to the now-dying mare.

The red stallion straightened up and stood tall over the mare’s wrecked, blood-smeared body. He spat on her burned-away, bleeding face: “What a waste of a sister!”

The stallion walked away, and faded as he passed Reaper, a cold wind dissipating both the red unicorn and the grey mist. The mare lay motionless for a moment, then began weeping.

Luna appeared a moment later and knelt next to the bleeding, ruined unicorn, touching the burned face, and gashes with her horn: “Shhhh, Azure Glaze! When will you face your drinking problem in the light of day?”

Azure Glaze sobbed: “I can’t tell anyone! My parents would be furious!”

Luna shook her head sadly: “Then I fear you will revisit this gruesome fate. Perhaps it would be best if you awoke for a bit.”

Azure Glaze closed her eyes and put her head back down, then she, too dissolved, leaving Reaper and Luna alone in the alley.

“I thought I might be onto something,” Reaper said, “especially when I saw that grey mist start to build.”

Luna shook her head. “I fear many of the malevolent mists and fogs and shadows are legacies of my reign as Nightmare Moon. It is one of my duties to clear them out whenever I encounter them, usually after a bad dream, such as this.”

Reaper sighed: “Great. So even now, Nightmare Moon’s running interference for Grey Thorn!”

Luna’s ears dropped: “I suppose in a way, yes. I am sorry…”

Reaper shrugged: “It’s OK, Princess. I know you’re working your tail off to make up for the past, and I’m here to help. I just wish we didn’t have so many obstacles.”

Luna nodded and smiled wanly: “Agreed. Shall we return to our patrols?”

“Sure!”

Luna’s horn glowed a deep green, and Reaper found himself in a wooded area, surrounded by the sounds of crickets and running water.

He walked slowly through dense, ankle-deep grass. The scene was oddly-lit, with deep shadows being cast by an indeterminate light source--neither sun nor moon we in evidence.

Suddenly he heard sounds of struggle: grunting and brush being trampled. He picked up his pace and headed toward the sound: “Here we go again!”

He broke through a screen of shrubs, and saw a pair of interlocked forms in a low dell--an earth pony and a pegasus.

Reaper closed in slowly, looking for evidence of too-dark shadows or overly-dense fogs.

He stopped when he realized what he was actually seeing: a large, seafoam green earth pony stallion was mounted over the back of a pale, pink pegasus, thrusting, sweating and panting.

Reaper chuckled as he heard the mare moan ecstatically, her wings held low, but spread out and swept forward: “Well, I seem to have covered the drinking, fighting and fucking so far. Guess I need to go find a picnic-slash-hoofball dream so I can check off eating and playing!”

He watched appreciatively as the pegasus began to rise off the ground, her lover still deep inside her, flanks pumping, his forelegs locked between her shoulders and wings, her mane clamped between his teeth.

“That’s some imagination!” he said, “I wonder which of them is the dreamer?”

As he was pondering this, Reaper heard a gurgling sound, and noticed rivulets of black water leading down to a small stream in the dell, which exited through a shallow cut. He furrowed his brow, and ignoring the cries of the climaxing ponies above him, began following the water.

He passed through the defile and noted the water was actually flowing slightly uphill toward a stand of tall coniferous trees. It was noticeably darker now, and the air was still and chilly.

Reaper approached a large tree, and could hear heavy, labored breathing beyond, but the ground on both sides of the tree sloped away steeply, and were covered with loose soil and stones. He faded to near-invisibility and walked into the tree’s trunk, where he was stopped cold.

“Dammit!” he muttered, “Can’t phase completely here…” He stepped gingerly around the right side of the tree, and saw a looming black shape that defied his attempts to circumscribe it--there was no defined boundary, and he found it hard to focus on it.

The shape--which was now clearly the Void Reaper and Luna had seen in several visions--hovered off to the side of a gasping, prostrate earth pony. A figure stood slightly behind the Void, obscured by its impenetrable blackness and attendant veil of dark mist, which was working its way into the surrounding grass like oily feelers.

Reaper licked his lips slowly and worked his sword slowly out of its sheath.

He cut around the trunk, scattering rocks and twigs, magically extending his blade out before him.

“Luna!” he shouted, “Get over here! I have him!”

“What do you think you have, errand colt?” said a soft, low voice, as the dark mist wreathing the Void suddenly lashed out, obscuring Reaper’s vision, making it impossible for him to spot the taunting pony.

“I think I have a Starswirl wannabe whose time has run out!” Reaper shouted, lunging toward the last location he could recall, that of the fallen earth pony. The Void loomed suddenly before him its blackness infinitely greater than the blinding fog.

Reaper reared back, horn blazing, sword glowing an unearthly violet, and stumbled over the apparent victim.

As he fell back, he glimpsed an arc of blinding, blue-white radiance, like a bolt of lightning, lancing down from above the treetops, illuminating everything, save for the heart of the Void, in shades of ghostly white.

Luna’s voice boomed out as she shot down from the sky like a meteor: “Hold, murderer! You shall not take another life while I hold dominion over the dreamscape!”

Her hooves threw up sparks as she struck the ground with a crack like thunder. Reaper narrowed his eyes, and looked away from her silvery glare, then lurched forward so he could shield the stricken earth pony from both the killer, and Luna’s naked power.

The low, soft voice spoke clearly, with malice: “Another time, Nightmare-Who-Was, and Death’s Lackey. I am a patient stallion.”

The Void’s cloud of dark mist swirled suddenly, and collapsed inward, enrobing a pale, unicorn-shaped figure, whose horn burst forth with a brilliant golden glow. Luna and Reaper blinked to clear their dazzled eyes, and the Void and its attendant were gone.

Luna bent down and helped Reaper roll off the unfortunate light tan mare, who sat up weeping and coughing: “Are you harmed, Caramel Gloss?”

Caramel cried out happily, “Oh, Princess Luna--thank you! I thought I was…”

Words died on her lips as she glanced to her right and saw Reaper standing above her, bringing his sword back toward his side in a dark, ominous arc.

The mare let out a blood-curdling scream and promptly fainted.

Reaper sheathed his sword and sheepishly backed away a step: “Sorry--I forgot to fade out. Like I said, I’m not used to spending significant time in the dreamscape.”

Luna sighed and bent forward to investigate the stunned mare, who began to shimmer, then disappear.

Luna stood back up and turned to Reaper: “The shock must have awoken her. I doubt she will sleep again this night.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if she doesn’t sleep tomorrow, either!” remarked Reaper, “I hope she never knows how close she came to being erased.”

“What would that thing have done, do you think?” Luna asked, poking tentatively at the ground where the Void had been.

Reaper shook his head: “Not sure. Grey Thorn seemed almost to be in contact with it, as though he was guiding it. Or…”

He furrowed his brow.

Luna cocked her head slightly: “Or what?”

“Or maybe he was restraining it.”

Luna’s eyebrows jumped: “Perhaps he is having trouble mastering it now?”

Reaper shrugged: “All I know is it seemed far less, how should I put this, integrated this time.”

“Integrated?”

“It was just looming, almost straining to get to its victim,” Reaper explained. “When we saw it consume Zephyr, Grey Thorn was across the room, and the Void was slowly working its way into and behind various dark forms. But not this time.”

“No,” Luna agreed. “It almost seemed ravenous. And did you notice that Caramel Gloss was young--as young as Dew Drop?”

Reaper nodded: “Yeah. And we've now returned to the question I asked a while back: what’s changed? Why Dew Drop?”

He looked up at the stars glittering overhead, mirroring the subtle, twinkling pinpoints in Luna's dark, flowing mane: “Will you be alright here? I need to head back for a bit and debrief Twilight.”

“This is my realm. I am never in danger here.”

Reaper faded away: “I hope it stays that way…”

Death Deferred

Twilight was sipping mint tea, poring over a pile of ancient texts when Reaper re-solidified and sat up.

Twilight started slightly, rattling her cup in its saucer.

“Ha!” she said triumphantly, “didn’t even spill when you popped back in this time!”

Reaper grinned: “I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that you’re getting more used to death’s Agent sitting ten feet from you!”

“A good thing, I’d say,” Twilight responded, rising from her cushions and walking to the side table to pour more tea, “since we’re sure to spend more time with each other before this is all over.”

Reaper nodded: “Most likely, though Luna and I caught a bit of a break--maybe this won’t take too long, after all.”

Twilight’s ears pricked up: “A break? What happened?”

Reaper stood and stretched: “We encountered Grey Thorn. He got away, but we were able to see him interact with that Void, and save a pony in the process.”

Twilight’s eyes went wide: “You saved somepony?!”

“Well, strictly speaking,” Reaper replied, “Luna saved her--a pony named Caramel Gloss. I had come across Grey Thorn and that Void, about to do, well, whatever it is they do, and, let’s just say it’s good Luna dropped in when she did!”

Twilight furrowed her brow: “He was about to absorb or erase or…”

“Or whatever,” Reaper interjected. “Right.”

He turned to the low tables now flanking Twilight’s pillows, and looked at all the scrolls and books.

“A little light reading?” he said.

Twilight returned with a refilled cup and a scone, and settled back among her cushions, rearranging some of the reading materials as she did.

“It’s amazing what you can get your hooves on when Celestia tells the Archivist to give you anything!” she said.

Reaper nodded slightly: “I’m sure! So, what have you discovered?”

“Well, Twilight said, turning to one especially scarred and battered volume, “not much yet that we didn’t already largely know. Mostly stuff about the Highbrier family: their lineage, some of their ancestral lands north of the Crystal Empire. That sort of thing.”

She took another sip of tea: “The interesting thing is, I can’t find a trace of any stallion who would have fit Grey Thorn’s description back in Starswirl’s day.”

“Well,” Reaper mused, “we’ve never gotten a particularly good look at him; maybe she’s a mare?”

Twilight swallowed and shook her head: “I already checked that, too. It was largely stallions who had the “Thorn” or “Burl” names. Mares tended to have “Vine” or “Rose” in their names. And no mare really fit the bill in that period either. Except…”

“Who?” Reaper asked, leaning forward.

“Hold on,” Twilight said, flipping some pages, opening a scroll. “A mare named “Pale Rose.” She lived some time before Starswirl really got powerful, but their dates must overlap a bit. I wasn’t able to find much about her, except she ran off, or was driven out...”

“And died giving birth,” Reaper interjected, closing his eyes and tipping his head back.

Twilight frowned and flipped more pages: “It doesn’t really say. How do you know...oh.”

Reaper grinned, but kept his eyes closed, as he recalled the scene: “Kind of my job, Princess!”

He slowly opened his eyes and took a deep breath: “Scoot over here, and I’ll share the vision in question.”

Twilight hesitated, but sighed and moved next to Reaper: “Is this a bad one? I just ate a bit and I’m not sure my stomach can take anything really awful right now!”

“More sad than bad,” Reaper replied as he locked his gaze onto Twilight’s eyes, “but it may answer a question.”

A dimly-lit scene came into view as Twilight’s eyes adjusted.

She was looking at a skinny, cream-colored unicorn, lying in a secluded glen, exhausted and clearly in distress.

Twilight gasped when she saw a form struggling free from behind the mare’s blood-streaked hindquarters. A pale, wet, bloody foal, still wrapped in membrane, was feebly trying to kick free from its mother’s birth canal.

The mare gave a great shudder and cried out in pain and fear, pushing with the last of her energy, tears streaming from her dimming eyes.

Twilight felt tears well in her own eyes as she saw Reaper enter the scene.

He leaned down and spoke gently to the sobbing, dying mare, as her now-still foal slid free from her body in a final gush of fluid and far too much blood.

“M-my baby…” she gasped, “is it...will it…?”

Reaper glanced behind her spasming flanks and twitching legs: “I think he’ll be joining you soon, Pale Rose. Time to go.”

Tears flowed freely down Twilight’s cheeks as Reaper leaned down to touch the distraught mare with his horn. Her eyes closed as a faint aura shimmered above her body for a moment.

Reaper walked back to her hind end and inspected the foal, then shook his head slightly, and faded away.

Twilight blinked hard twice and rubbed her muzzle, sniffling, and leaned back as Reaper’s gaze fell away.

She looked at him, tears still welling in her eyes: “How awful, to die alone like that, believing your foal was dying, too!”

“Did you get a good look at him?” Reaper asked, magically lifting a napkin from his side table and hovering it in front of Twilight.

She took the napkin and blew her nose: “Yes--a grey unicorn. Why didn’t you take him, too?”

“I usually do in many cases of death during foaling. But not all,” he answered. “I assumed I’d be back shortly; there didn’t really seem to be a rush.”

“Apparently you didn’t go back for him after all,” Twilight observed dryly.

Reaper nodded: “Obviously not. So I think we’ve found our Grey Thorn. Now the question is, how did he grow up? Who cared for him? How did he encounter Starswirl?”

Twilight furrowed her brow and shuffled some scrolls and smaller books: “I may have some ideas about that.”

“The Highbriers were like a lot of those old unicorn families: secluded, clannish, close-knit, but severe. Pale Rose’s foal was probably a bastard, maybe from a stallion from another clan--a rival, maybe, like the Greenswards.”

“Hmm,” Reaper mused, “That line died out not long after the last Baronet of the Highbriers.”

“Right,” Twilight concurred, “and where were we just now?”

Reaper pondered for a moment: “Along the banks of the Silver Silt River.”

Twilight nodded, pulling a map toward her: “Right between Highbrier and Greensward lands. I don’t find any record of Pale Rose being buried. I doubt she was ever found.”

“That would make sense,” Reaper said, leafing through an old grimoire, “But clearly the foal was found. But by whom?”

Twilight shrugged: “At least we have roughly the right time frame now, and two sets of family records to investigate.”

“Speaking of investigate,” Reaper said, thumping the grimoire with his hoof, “have you found any of this book’s sister volumes?”

Twilight shook her head: “No, and the Archivist got kind of defensive when I asked her about this book and any others like it. Walked off muttering something about “forbidden knowledge.””

Reaper raised an eyebrow: “Well, no great surprise there! It sounds like you have more digging to do on several fronts.”

Twilight agreed: “Yes. And what are you going to do?”

Reaper took a deep breath and stood up: “I’m heading back to Fillydelphia to see if I can help Luna pick up Grey Thorn’s trail.”

He walked over to Luna’s sleeping form as sat down next to her, leaning close in order to touch his horn to hers.

“Good luck!” Twilight said, turning back to her tea and books.

Reaper touched Luna’s horn as he faded: “You too…”

Sins of the Father

Luna was speaking to a young pegasus filly, when her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and the air was filled with the sound of rushing wind. An ominous form swirled into view.

The little gold-colored pegasus’ eyes went wide, and she flew off in a panic, as Luna regained her bearings.

“Sorry,” Reaper said as he materialized next to her, and took a step sideways, sinking slightly into the cloud on which they were standing.

“Please stop doing that!” Luna said crossly, fanning her wings in order to regain her balance.

“I didn’t expect you to be in Cloudsdale,” Reaper explained. “I figured I’d just pop back into Fillydelphia without too much disruption. Obviously I had to tug a little harder to catch up with you.”

Luna glared: “Yes, scaring poor little Sun Sprite witless in the process! There’s another upcoming nightmare I shall have to deal with!”

Reaper shrugged apologetically: “Again, sorry. So why are you in Cloudsdale? Did the Fillydelphia trail go cold, or what?”

“Not exactly,” Luna replied, lifting off, and gracefully swooping down toward a colonnaded structure below.

Reaper appeared on the small temple’s steps moments before Luna landed.

“I assume you are familiar with the various grim statues and shrines to Nightmare Moon scattered throughout Equestria,” Luna said, looking up at a bas-relief sculpture of herself, carved into the temple’s frieze.

“Sure,” Reaper replied, “they’re historically some of the more common locations I’ve had to visit to collect ponies who meet violent ends.”

Luna’s ears drooped: “I know. I have seen many a dream of murder or suicide centered on these shrines. It is another part of my dark legacy I must repair.”

Reaper nodded solemnly: “So why are we at this one?”

“When you left to rejoin Twilight,” Luna explained, sitting on the shrine’s cracked and stained steps, “I began checking every dark corner of Fillydelphia I could recall, looking for traces of Grey Thorn, in order to either track him or thwart him, as needs be.”

Reaper walked up the steps past Luna, and began looking closely at the various dark vines and cracks lacing the shrine’s columns.

Luna gazed out over the dreamscape Cloudsdale, and continued: “I ended up at the city’s main statue to Nightmare Moon, and noticed many ponies in distress, clearly in the midst of unsettled or frightening dreams.”

Reaper quietly unsheathed his blade, and began tentatively poking at a vine.

Luna closed her eyes: “I swept the area with a bright light, in an attempt to lift the mood, when I noticed a vapor or fog, clinging to the base of the statue, that resisted the light for a moment. As I moved closer, it shrank away, into the shadows beneath the sculpture, and disappeared.”

She stood and looked around for Reaper: “There you are! What are you doing?”

He shifted the glow of his horn to a deep, almost black, purple glow, and scraped his blade along the length of a vine: “What are these vines? Are they an artifact of your dark period, or just part of the dreamscape, or…?”

Luna peered closely at the vine, which was now becoming thinner by the second. It vanished entirely as she came closer.

“Those vines are not mine,” she said. “You have no discernible impact on creations within the dreamscape, and yet clearly you had an effect on that tendril.”

Reaper nodded: “Then it completed vanished as you closed in.”

He straightened up, sheathed his sword, and said, “Finish your story. What happened after the incident with the sculpture?”

Luna nodded: “Yes--in Fillydelphia. I watched the vapor or shadow shrink away, and saw a dark patch in the sky for a moment, blotting out some stars. It reminded me, again, of the Tantabus, and I was determine to follow it to its source. I have stopped by several shrines this night, ending here in Cloudsdale.”

Reaper chewed his bottom lip: “Do you think he’s been using these shrines and sculptures as bases?”

Luna furrowed her brow: “I’m unsure. He may have simply been using them as jumping-off spots--locations from which he could quickly and consistently navigate the dreamscape.”

Reaper walked to the bottom of the shrine’s steps: “In any event, I think you’ve sussed out the method for hunting him. We just need to patrol a circuit of the remaining shrines, and we should be able to at least keep abreast of his actions.”

“Agreed,” Luna said, as she joined him at the shrine’s base. “Now what of your time with Twilight? Have her studies been fruitful?”

“Maybe,” Reaper said as he kicked a fragment of masonry off the edge into the clouds below. “She thinks Grey Thorn may have been the child of Pale Rose and some unidentified stallion from the Greensward clan.”

“Hmm,” Luna mused, narrowing her eyes as she peered into her memories, “Greensward. I recall Pale Rose having several, shall we say, active dreams involving a stallion named Verdant Grove.”

“Do we need to grab Twilight and head back to your dream quarters to do some group research?” Reaper asked.

“I think not,” Luna replied. “Taking her Verdant Grove’s name should be sufficient for now. Do you recall his death vision?”

Reaper tapped his chin for a moment: “Yes. I don’t remember it being notable: a vision of his father…”

“His father?” Luna repeated. “High Heath?”

Reaper nodded: “Yes. Why?”

“Did High Heath precede his son in death?”

Reaper furrowed his brow: “No--actually he didn’t. Give me a minute to run through his death vision…”

He peered into the distance and faded slightly, as Luna closed her eyes again, bringing up her own memories. They both opened their eyes at the same time with matching looks of surprise.

Luna spoke first: “He raped her!”

“That’s certainly the way it looks from my side,” Reaper concurred. “I don’t think Verdant Grove was the father--it must have been High Heath!”

Luna nodded.

“So Pale Rose’s active dreams of Verdant…?” Reaper queried.

Luna took a deep breath and composed her thoughts for a moment: “Many were undoubtedly true fantasies of Verdant, but those final, rougher visions, must have been her compensating for the reality of High Heath’s involvement.”

Reaper sighed: “There’s likely no good way to know this far removed from the times involved, which stallion was the true father, but I suspect neither one wanted Rose pregnant.”

“Not given the acrimony between those two families, no,” Luna said.

“Well,” Reaper said, “I’m pretty sure Twilight will find all this interesting. I wonder if she’s found any corroborating evidence.”

Luna turned back toward the shrine, passing a beam of bright, sky-blue light across it like a stream of water, searing away the remnants of dark vines: “Undoubtedly, though I’m not sure how this helps us in the here-and-now.”

Reaper shrugged: “Who knows? She seems like a bright kid--I’d like to give her every bit of information we can. Where do you plan to go next?”

Luna pondered for a moment, paying particular attention to the carvings above the shrine’s opening: “I have not been to Appleloosa in several days. I will go there now.”

Reaper grimaced: “I recall some particularly grisly deaths associated with the Nightmare Moon statue there.”

Luna took a deep breath: “And the attendant darkness that lingers there to this day must be especially enticing to our quarry.”

“True. Well, I’ll catch up to you as soon as I can. Good hunting!” Reaper faded away, leaving a faint afterglow from his horn.

Luna stood for a moment, regarding her image in the stone, tipping her head sideways, scouring away the last traces of vine. The beam of magic intensified for an instant as Luna leaned closer, focusing on Nightmare Moon’s form, then it went out. She stepped back, nostrils flared, and took flight, leaving the carvings intact.

Buried Tales

Reaper’s body shimmered briefly as he fully reentered his physical form in Luna’s chambers. He stood and looked around, but saw only Luna slumbering nearby.

“Twilight?” he called out, walking across the floor toward the entrance. There was no reply.

He sighed, then called out: “Guard! Stick your head in here for a second--I have a question.”

He heard shuffling and muttering from the hall: “That’s close enough! What do you want?”

Reaper rolled his eyes and stuck his head through the doorway. There was a scramble as both Luna and Celestia’s guards backed away, trying to avoid eye contact with their unwanted guest.

“My good mares and stalwart stallions,” he said dryly, “if you don’t stand your ground, I’m going to appear smack in your midst and take my answers directly, by staring into your souls!”

The group of guard ponies shied away, but didn’t run, though they all had their ears drooped, and their wings tucked back tightly.

“Wha-what do you want to know?” stammered the lead Royal Guard, looking at Reaper’s feet.

“Buck up, mighty warrior,” Reaper said, “I just want to know where Twilight has gone.”

The guardpony swallowed hard: “She left about 15 minutes ago…”

“She said she needed to talk to Celestia about something in a forbidden scroll,” added one of Luna’s Night Guard.

Reaper nodded: “Then I’m off to Celestia’s chambers, I suppose. I’m sure I won’t need an escort!”

He turned to leave the doorway as the guards fell back, just as Twilight rounded the corner.

“No need, Reaper,” she said, “and I’m sure the Princesses would appreciate you not terrifying their guards! Really--threatening to “stare into their souls!” What would Luna say?”

Reaper grinned and turned to go back into Luna’s quarters: “Probably about the same thing you just did. I only wanted a simple bit of information, and it seemed a bit of dramatic flourish was called for!”

Twilight shook her head: “”Dramatic flourish!” You’re worse than Rarity!”

As they walked back toward the dais and Luna’s dozing form, Reaper cocked an eyebrow and looked at Twilight: “Forbidden scroll? Aren’t two warlocks enough for this story?”

Twilight poured a fresh goblet of cider and rolled her eyes: “I’m no warlock, and neither was Starswirl!”

“I’m not so sure about that…” Reaper retorted.

Twilight settled on her cushions and set her cider to one side of a collection of cracked and fading scrolls.

“Well, be that as it may,” Twilight continued, “if I were a warlock, I probably would have found the secret chamber or whatever it is below the castle that connects to that collapsed stairway you found by now!”

Reaper sat on the low couch nearest to Twilight: “So no new Highbrier intelligence?”

“Not really,” Twilight replied, shuffling a few bits of parchment and opening a book.

“Can I assume you’ve run across the names Verdant Grove and High Heath?” Reaper asked.

Twilight nodded: “Sure--father and son, members of the Greensward clan, during Starswirl’s early days.”

Reaper started to open his mouth to speak, but Twilight suddenly cut him off: “Wait! You think Verdant Grove was Grey Thorn’s father?”

She flipped through several pages and pulled up a second book: “That would certainly fit the family dynamics and timelines, but what I’ve read of Verdant makes him seem like a fairly gentle soul. I have a hard time believing…”

“That he’d abandon his lover and foal to their fates?” Reaper interjected. “I’ve seen it more times than you’d care to know, Princess. However, in this case, I suspect you may be right.”

Reaper sat quietly while Twilight furrowed her brows and chewed on a quill end. Her eyebrows jumped: “High Heath?!”

Reaper nodded: “That seems to fit some of the dream and death vision recollections Luna and I shared with each other.”

“Wow,” Twilight said, taking another long drink of cider, “that makes more sense, actually. High Heath was not well-regarded in his day, especially not by the Highbriers. There was some hope that when Verdant took over upon his father’s death, that tensions might ease.”

“I could see that,” Reaper agreed, “except, of course, that Verdant died young--not long after Rose, actually.”

“Yes,” Twilight said, unrolling a scroll a few inches, peering at some faded writing, “and nopony ever really knew the circumstances, just that he “fell ill and languished for a fortnight before passing away,” according to this old legal document.”

Reaper chewed his lip for a moment: “Yeah, no help there, and neither father nor son had a death vision that really clears this up.”

“So,” Twilight concluded, “either the foal was Verdant’s, and his father found out, or the foal was Heath’s. In either event, it looks like he drove Rose to her death to cover it up, not Verdant.”

Reaper nodded: “So who took Grey Thorn? He must have been found--he was too little and weak to have gotten more than a few yards on his own.”

Twilight pursed her lips and rummaged through the piles and stacks surrounding her: “There had been multiple raids and border skirmishes between several clans in that area for some time. As a result there was a higher-than usual number of orphans in the border communities and clan castles.”

She stood and walked around Luna’s recumbent form, retrieving a map that lay behind the dozing Princess.

“I would suspect that the foal was found by a patrol,” Twilight speculated, “and taken to one of the local fastnesses, likely on the Greensward side, since a Highbrier patrol might have recognized Rose’s body. Let me do some more reading, now that I have a good lead on the family connections, and likely locations he would have been sent.”

“And what of the “forbidden scroll” the Guard mentioned?” Reaper asked, raising an eyebrow.

Twilight snorted: “The silly Archivist is worried about old legends of haunted catacombs beneath the castle, long-buried beneath the original foundations. The “forbidden scroll” is just some old spooky treasure map. But it might have some useful tidbits that tie into that stairway you found.”

“So you’ve run into a bit of a roadblock, I take it?” Reaper asked.

Twilight shook her head and brandished a red leather tube: “Oh, no! When I told her that Celestia had given me free reign, she grumbled, but gave me what I’d asked for!”

Reaper grinned: “Rank hath its privileges! Be aware, however, that not all those old legends are without merit. I tended to a number of deaths back in those caves long ago: some of those “haunting” tales and references to “catacombs” have a bit of truth to them.”

“Really?” Twilight said, ears perked, “What causes?”

Reaper narrowed his eyes as though peering into the distance: “A few mining-slash-construction accidents, a couple of foolish youths who got lost then trapped, and at least a couple of murders and suicides.”

“Remember though,” he said as he stood up and walked back to Luna’s side, preparing to rejoin her on her hunt, “those were a long time ago. I have no idea what those old caves and tunnels even look like anymore.”

Twilight stood up too, and began to walk toward the chamber’s exit: “Well I aim to find out!”

Reaper frowned a little: “Yeah, well just be careful--I don’t want to revisit those old tunnels just to perform my duties for you!”

Twilight winked over her shoulder: “I’ll be fine!”

Reaper chewed his lip as he watched her leave the room, then he leaned in against Luna’s shoulder, and touched his horn to hers again.

What Lies Beneath

Twilight worked her way around the base of the royal palace, ending up at the foot of its tallest, oldest tower. She probed the ground and adjacent stone-work with her horn’s magic, and kept a pair of scrolls hovering nearby, referring to them frequently.

“I wish Rarity was here,” she said impatiently, “she has a better feel for subterranean features!”

She pressed an ear against a large, smooth-cut block of granite, and tapped tentatively with a hoof. The stone returned a slightly hollow report.

Twilight tipped her head slightly and furrowed her brow: “This seems like the right spot. I wonder…”

She looked around furtively, then boosted the magical glow of her horn, sweeping the stone’s surface.

“Almost,” she said, squinting at the surface, subtly shifting her magic from its accustomed pale purple to darker shades, finally ending in the oily, unearthly black of dark magic. A pair of glyphs appeared, faint and scarred.

“I knew it!” she said triumphantly, pulling a tattered, wine-red book from her saddle bag, flipping it open, and comparing the figures on the page to the glowing symbols on the stone.

She leaned forward, wings spread slightly, anticipating a trap of some sort, and touched her horn to the first glyph, then the second.

Nothing happened.

“Shoot!” she said sharply, “I was sure that would work! Both sets of notes indicate…” She rifled through several pages, and pulled another fragment of parchment from her saddlebag, muttering.

Twilight plopped down on the turf with an annoyed grunt, and continued to murmur various words and incantations from the books and parchment scraps, now spread about on the ground.

An ancient architectural drawing of the tower before her caught her eye: “That’s odd. It looks like some of the foundation stonework’s different from the original plans. I wonder why?”

She stood and walked back toward the now-blank stone, tipping her head slightly, catching the dying rays of the evening sun. She tapped and pushed against the granite, muttering various spells and power words while sending out pulses of magic from her horn.

She sat down dejectedly, back against the cool stone, sweat running down her face: “Rarity, nothing--I could use a certain somepony who can just pass through walls right about now!”

She began to pull the fragments and scrolls back toward her, when the wind caught a bit of parchment, blowing it a few feet around the corner, behind a tangle of brambles and vines, clustered beneath a drain spout.

She reached out with her magic, but the scrap had caught on a branch, and wouldn’t budge.

Twilight raised an eyebrow: “Odd. And a bit of a nuisance, as well…”

She stood and walked toward the drain spout, ducking beneath a cluster of old vines, using her magic to clear a crude, narrow path. The glyphs on the stone behind her began to glow faintly, as the rays of the setting sun struck them, and Twilight’s magic lent a pale violet tint to the vines and stonework.

“Why--won’t--these--vines--clear?” she grunted as she swept her horn back and forth.

Twilight finally scooted between the wall and the thorny brambles, and leaned in to grab the scrap with her teeth. A vine suddenly looped over her horn, pulling her forward slightly, causing her to lose her balance and topple. The ground under her feet sagged and gave way, dropping her beneath the turf and its tangled cover of vines.

The glyphs glowed a deep gold for a moment, then went dark, as the sun dipped below the horizon, and the western sky turned blood red, lending a pinkish cast to a single white rose, nestled among the brambles.

Twilight fell down through a crumbling collection of pilings, loose stones, and discarded clay sewage pipes, dragging along a shower of dirt, sand, plant roots and flight feathers.

She cried out as she fell, but immediately inhaled a mouthful of dirt, and coughed violently, causing her wings to spread out just enough to snag her left wing on an old timber support.

The decayed wood snapped, and the sound of wood breaking was matched by the ripping sound of a tendon giving way in her shoulder. She screamed in pain, and blacked-out for a moment, twisting and dropping heavily to the stone floor below.

Twilight came to a minute later, tears welling her eyes, searing pain radiating all along her left side. She lay on the tunnel floor for several minutes, trying to master her pain, and get her bearings. Her horn cast its accustomed light, but it seemed dim, and didn’t illuminate more than a few feet.

“What’s going on?” she muttered through gritted teeth, as she sat up and pulled the straps from her saddlebags, fashioning a crude restraining band. She used her magic to clumsily work the straps around her abdomen and over her left wing, securing it to her side.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and stood, pain shooting up her legs and across her back. She wobbled forward a few steps, and decided nothing else was broken, so she picked her way back to the point where she had landed, and looked up at the small hole through which she had fallen, some 25 feet above her head.

Twilight cleared her throat and shouted: “Can anypony hear me? This is Twilight--I’ve fallen down a hole next to the wall, behind some vines. Be careful--the ground is soft and thin!”

There was no response. She called out several more times, but to no avail.

She tipped her horn toward the ragged opening and tried to send a beam of light through, but as before, the glow from her horn died away after less than 15 feet. As the the final rays of the setting sun dimmed above ground, the hole darkened and disappeared.

Twilight trembled for a moment, but hooked her horn through her saddlebags, stood tall, and began to slowly walk down the tunnel, looking for an open chamber, or cave, which might match some of the map and scroll fragments she had with her.

After about 120 feet, the tunnel did open out into a partially-excavated chamber, about 20 feet high, and roughly rectangular. Twilight set down on a rough-hewn rock, and pulled out a map.

“Now I wish I had my brother and his stupid graph paper! I don’t have any way to make a map, and I don’t know if these old things are accurate!”

She squinted at a fragment, then tried to cast her light as far as it would go in order to illuminate the whole space. The radiance of her horn seemed almost double what it had been at the other end of the tunnel.

“Well that’s a little piece of luck, anyway!” she exclaimed as she got a good look at the chamber, and the map.

She nodded: “Yes, it looks like this chamber is on here. And if I go to the left another, oh, 100 feet or so, I should come to another cave or room or whatever. That one seems to be close to the hidden stairway up in Starswirl’s secret room.”

Twilight closed her eyes and gasped as a spike of pain shot from her damaged wing down her left foreleg, followed by a wave of nausea. She gritted her teeth and stood unsteadily.

She shuffled wearily down the partially-brick-lined tunnel, noting dark water seeping through, forming puddles on the uneven floor, reflecting her horn’s light. A mass of something white, embedded in the tunnel wall off to one side caught her attention.

Twilight stepped closer, and was finally able to make out various bones, tucked into a rough niche in the wall, partially covered by fallen brickwork.

She recoiled: “Ugh! I guess Reaper was right--some ponies did die down here and were never found!”

She leaned in and examined the tangle of skeletal remains: “One, two, at least three skulls. I wonder if more ponies died in these caves and chambers than Reaper let on?”

She stumbled back away from the bones, wincing in pain, and walked out of the end of the tunnel, into a low antechamber, barred at its opposite end by a door. There was a collapsed stairway leading upward on the right wall.

Twilight walked to the stairs’ entry and peered upward into the ruined passage: “That sure looks like Reaper’s collapsed and melted stones. I must be in the right place.”

She sat down gingerly on the bottom step and brought a tattered scroll out of her saddlebag, peering between it and the nearby, iron-banded door. She looked up at the ceiling, and back at the ruined stairs.

“Alright,” she said, rising wearily to her feet, “let’s see what you have to show me!”

She tucked the scroll away as she approached the door. She tentatively touched her horn to the door’s pitted and stained surface, pushing slightly, emitting slight pulses of magic at the same time.

“C’mon,” she muttered, “don’t make me blast you in. I don’t want anypony to know I was here, just in case!”

She elevated the magic level coursing through her horn, revealing the door’s surface in greater detail. The stains, in particular, caught her eye.

She leaned back from the door and focused on one particularly well-defined, dark patch. She swept a beam of dark magic across it and sighed.

Twilight raised her left foreleg up, and focused a thin ribbon of bright, silvery energy from her horn along the inside of her wrist, lancing the skin. She bit her lip as a bead of blood welled up from the incision. She dipped the tip of her horn in the blood, and moved back toward the door.

As faint bands of dark magic played across the surface of her horn, Twilight traced a bloody glyph on the door’s surface. It shimmered for a moment, then went dark. The door swung inward silently a few inches, then stopped.

Twilight sucked lightly at the wound for a moment until it stopped bleeding, then squared her shoulders and pushed the door open. She stepped slowly into the darkened space beyond.

“OK,” she whispered, lighting up her horn, filling the space with radiance. “Let’s see if this was worth…”

“Oh, my.”

Clash

Reaper materialized behind a cracked and weathered statue of Nightmare Moon on the edge of Appleloosa. He glanced around, looking for Luna, and noticed a distinct lack of ponies anywhere nearby.

He furrowed his brow, and began walking toward what would typically be the center of town. However, he soon discovered that the dreamscape’s rendering of Appleloosa this time was badly off-kilter, as the road he was on kept returning him to the statue, regardless of what direction he turned.

Reaper sucked air through his teeth, and sat down on the edge of the statue’s base: “What are you up to, Luna?”

After a few minutes he heard distant shouting, and saw what appeared to be flashes of lightning, toward the center of town. He stood back up, took a deep breath, and focused intently on the bursts of light and sound. He began to slowly walk away from the statue.

After several minutes of deliberate walking, and double-checking his bearings, Reaper finally reached a cluster of buildings marking Appleloosa’s main street. Several shops were burning, with eerie greenish flames flickering out of their windows, and dark smoke not dissipating, but swirling and twisting in the sky above.

A pony ran out of one of the shops, mane ablaze with blue-green fire, a look of terror in her eyes. Reaper stepped in her path: “What’s happening here? Where is Princess Luna?”

The pony slowed for a moment to answer, then saw Reaper’s dark form, back-lit by a row of burning buildings, the light glinting in his eyes.

She screamed, “Nooo! I don’t wanna die! Get away! Oh, please help me, Celestia!”

Reaper started to speak, but the pony collapsed in the dust, and faded away as she awoke from her part in the nightmare.

Reaper rolled his eyes: “Great. I don’t why I thought that would work this time!”

He faded out as far as he could, and began to trot along the edges of buildings, sticking to the dense shadows. He heard shouting around a corner, and moved in to investigate.

Luna was hovering mid-air, framed by a burning clock tower, and a pillar of impenetrable blackness: “I am supreme in this place, murderer! We know who you are, and how you orient yourself in my realm! Never again will you prey on my subjects!”

Grey Thorn was shrouded in darkness at the base of the Void, nearly invisible save for the glow of his horn.

“Leaving you free to prey on them once again, I take it, Princess,” he shouted, firing a blast of gold-tinged magic at her.

She reared back and deflected his bolt, returning her own deep-blue fire: “Slander! I feel nothing but concern and love for these ponies now, and you cannot turn me back to the darkness!”

Grey Thorn shielded himself as Luna’s magic engulfed him, blasting away part of the town’s meeting hall, scattering several ponies sheltering there.

“Turn you back?” he taunted, “You never left it! Look at yourself now, Nightmare-that-was! You’re almost as dark as you ever were! Look at the havoc you’ve wrought in your effort to fell me. It’s just as well this isn’t the real world, or your friend would be busy tidying up the spirits of the departed as we speak!”

Luna cried out in rage, and dove toward Grey Thorn, horn blazing with dark energy: “I will end you now, monster, and make you pay for your crimes! I will tear you apart with my own teeth!”

Reaper’s eyes widened as he realized Luna’s fatal error.

“Princess, STOP!” he shouted, breaking cover and dashing toward Grey Thorn and his Void as fast as he could, sword drawn, horn aglow.

He leaped between Luna and the Void at the last moment, phasing fully-solid in order to take the full force of her body blow. They crashed awkwardly through a fruit vendor’s stall, and came to rest at the base of a scarred, blackened tree.

Grey Thorn laughed in delight: “Saved from death by death! How ironic!”

He took the opportunity to rush forward toward a group of ponies huddled against the wall of the ruined meeting hall. The Void was hard on his heels, tendrils and streamers of blackness stretching forward, flowing over and around Grey Thorn like dark wings.

A young, pale orange filly gasped in horror as the dark ribbons reached out for her, Grey Thorn wrapped in their midst, his eyes wide, his horn glowing with a piercing golden light.

“NO!!” Luna screamed, her cry shattering the tree, throwing Reaper several feet to the side.

She leaned forward, eyes ablaze, teeth clenched, and unleashed a blast of dark magic, erasing most of the meeting hall’s ruins, as well as a dozen ponies and a building beyond, leaving a deep, wide trench, above which Grey Thorn and the Void now hovered.

Reaper’s ears drooped flat against the sides of his head: “Shit! I hope you didn’t just kill those ponies in their sleep, Luna!”

She snapped her head around and looked at Reaper, blank eyes glowing an unearthly blue-white. Her voice boomed: “Better that thou takest them, Harbinger, than this grotesque monster damn them to an unimaginable fate!”

Grey Thorn threw his head back and laughed again: “Even more ironies--kill the ponies to save them! You two make quite a team!”

Reaper turned to confront Grey Thorn: “You, too! You realize, of course, that that thing has at least as much control over you as you have over it, by now.”

“You know nothing, Entropy’s slave,” Grey Thorn sniffed. “I am master of this thing, as you call it, just as surely as your friend over there is of her own magic!”

He turned to look at Luna, standing in the midst of a smoking crater, glittering sparks still raining down around her, cold fire emanating from her blank eyes.

Grey Thorn grinned maliciously: “Bad example.”

Luna’s wings suddenly fanned out as she took off in a rush, bearing down on Grey Thorn at nearly supersonic speed: “SILENCE!”

Grey Thorn smirked as he and the Void dissolved away, leaving behind a column of dark smoke: “Welcome back, Nightmare-that-is-again…”

Luna shot through the smoke dispersing it, landing with a crash of stones and sparks, shoulders heaving as she dropped to her knees, sobbing: “What have I done?!”

Reaper tentatively picked his way through the smoldering rubble, investigating the various scattered bodies lying about. One by one they began to fade away, save for two who sat up unsteadily, blinking and shaking their heads.

Reaper dimmed as far as he could, and worked his way around the few conscious ponies who remained in the area.

He walked up quietly to Luna, and folded his legs underneath his body as he settled down next to her.

“I don’t think anypony’s dead,” he said, “but I can’t be too sure about the one who was right in front of Grey Thorn. Between his magic and yours and the Void, I’m not sure what her fate was.”

Luna wept, her body wracked, tears dripping into the blackened dust: “I destroyed her! Her name was Dandelion, and I erased her just as surely as Grey Thorn! I’m no better than he!”

Reaper furrowed his brow, and closed his eyes for a few moments: “You don’t have that kind of power, Princess. And as for killing, I know when a pony has died--it’s kind of my job!”

“However,” he continued, “I’m still not entirely sure what happened to her. I should head to the real Appleloosa and determine her fate.”

Luna looked up, distraught, tears still rolling down her cheeks: “No--don’t leave me here! Don’t leave me with this smoke and wreckage and fear and that hateful, damnable statue!”

Reaper chewed his lip: “Then let’s go together. Let’s get you out of here for just a bit. But we can’t be gone long. Grey Thorn’s desperate, and there’s no telling what he’ll do next.”

Luna’s eyebrows jumped, and she replied caustically, “Desperate?! He’s more powerful than ever! How is he desperate?”

Reaper rubbed his muzzle and took a deep breath: “He was right about one thing: in many ways I am Entropy’s slave. As a result, I know an out-of-balance system when I see one. He’s losing control of that Void.”

Luna tipped her head and rubbed the back of her hoof across her nose: “Is it overtaking him?”

“I can’t tell,” Reaper replied, “I don’t know if he’s trying to merge with it, or trying not to merge with it, or just what the dynamic is. All I know is, it’s clearly hungering for more energy. You saw it wrap itself around Grey Thorn as it lunged for Dandelion.”

Luna shuddered and stifled a sob: “Yes--that’s why I...acted.”

“Yes,” Reaper said. “And you likely spared her becoming its next victim. It’s clear when you ceased being Nightmare Moon he lost his easy cover. You would now no longer turn a blind eye to his extra darkness, and the terror it inspired here in the dreamscape. He hasn’t been able to feed that thing, possibly in years, until Dew Drop.”

Reaper stood and helped Luna to her feet.

“Ironically,” he continued, “I think the Void became too powerful during your years as Nightmare Moon. Grey Thorn could simply lurk here, absorbing old, dying ponies’ essences without any repercussions. But when you left that role, he lost his easy prey.”

“Can he not “feed” outside of this space?” Luna asked, wiping away the last of her tears, using her magic to quell the surrounding fires.

Reaper shook his head: “I don’t think so. Once, long ago, he probably could have. But that Void’s been too powerful for too many centuries, now. If he tried to hunt with it, as it were, in the real world, I would likely detect it, and I’m pretty sure Celestia would as well.”

He walked toward the crumbling, scorched wall where the battle had climaxed: “And I think that finally answers the question, ‘why Dew Drop?’ For the same reason he wanted Dandelion: she’s young and vital, full of life essence. He can’t rely on “low-hanging fruit” anymore.”

Luna turned toward Reaper: “Not now that he is the hunted. I understand. But what does he plan?”

Reaper shrugged: “I don’t know. Was his plan to gain enough power that he could openly challenge you or Celestia in the open? Did he not really have a plan, and is now forced to make one? That’s actually my belief. I think he was perfectly happy to inhabit the dreamscape like a parasite. But that’s no longer possible.”

Luna gritted her teeth: “No. Never again will I allow him to poison this place with his obscene feeding!”

Reaper raised an eyebrow: “Just make sure you don’t get poisoned in the process! You’re getting a little too liberal with the dark magic.”

Luna bowed her head and sighed: “I appreciate your concern. I, too, fear the power that courses through me when I unleash the darkness. Grey Thorn was not entirely wrong about me, either.”

Reaper nodded: “Let’s head back and put this Dandelion situation to rest, one way or another. I’ve had to reap my share of young spirits over the millennia, and I can tell you they do not go gently…”

“Like Dew Drop,” Luna quietly interjected.

“Precisely. I suspect Dandelion made it out OK, but there’s only one way to know for sure.”

Luna raised her head, and peered into the distance: “Then let us go now, and see if Grey Thorn’s list of crimes has grown.”

Déjà Vu

Luna and Reaper sat up at the same time, squinting at the sunrise streaming through Luna’s chamber’s windows.

“How quickly can you get to Appleloosa?” Reaper asked. “I can be there in a matter of moments, but are you ready to teleport? How much power do you have after that display in the dreamscape?”

“Sufficient for our needs, have no fear,” Luna replied, stepping to the side table and raising the carafe of cider to her lips.

“However, I do need a moment to slake my thirst…”

Reaper nodded, and looked around the room.

“It looks like Twilight took most of the scraps and fragments with her,” Reaper observed. “I hope she’s doing alright.”

“I am sure she’s fine,” Luna replied, emptying the carafe and setting it down with a contented sigh. “As you have pointed out, she is bright, and has more than a modicum of power in her own right.”

Reaper furrowed his brow: “I know, but I really have no good idea what she’s going to find down there. I haven’t seen the abandoned catacombs or mines or any of that in several centuries--especially not under the old High Tower.”

Luna nodded: “Then let us get to Appleloosa and regain Grey Thorn’s trail so we can resolve this situation, and ensure Twilight’s safety!”

Luna departed with a flash, leaving Reaper alone for a moment. He stared at the floor and cocked his head as though listening intently for something. He chewed his lip, straightened up and disappeared.

Reaper, again, found himself on the outskirts of Appleloosa, next to the now-ruined statue of Nightmare Moon.

He arched an eyebrow: “Not that I disagree with the sentiment, but I wonder who knocked this thing down?”

He blinked out, and reappeared in a neighborhood of cottages and cabins near the center of town, searching for Luna, but trying not attract attention while doing so.

“Where in the name of Celestia’s holy teats did Luna end up?!” he wondered aloud.

He rounded a corner, and thought he was experiencing déjà vu: Before him was Luna, again confronting Grey Thorn, ponies fleeing, several shops ablaze with eldritch fire.

Fearing the scenario might repeat itself even further, he phased back to his fully-solid form, and trotted across the open market square.

“Flee!” he cried to the clusters of frightened and confused ponies.

Luna joined his warning: “Run, all of you! This is no longer the dream you were just experiencing! This monster has come here to take advantage of your confusion!”

Reaper’s sword flashed deep blue as he magically drew it, sweeping its tip toward the towering Void. An arcing band of energy raced toward the blackness, forming a web-like barrier between Grey Thorn and several potential victims.

Numerous ponies now found themselves seemingly trapped between some kind of infinite darkness, and Death incarnate. They began to scream.

Luna, seeing the Void momentarily restrained, dropped down from on high, sweeping the terrified ponies aside, thrusting them out of the line-of-fire.

Luna called out to a frightened constable: “If you value your life and the lives of your fellow citizens, round up everypony you can and evacuate!”

“And send word to Canterlot, if you can!” Reaper added, stepping forward, renewing the barrier with another sweep of his sword.

Grey Thorn lunged forward, the Void sweeping over and around him like a living thunderhead, tendrils stabbing at and around Reaper’s barrier and Luna’s blasts of magic.

“Pretty brazen of you, G.T., showing yourself in the real world, in the full light of day!” Reaper shouted, pressing closer, trying to hem in the Void’s tendrils.

“Truly,” Luna added, “for my sister will soon join us, and your doom, a thousand years in the making, will finally be nigh!”

Grey Thorn laughed, rising into the air, seeking an advantage against his opponents’ barriers and counter-strikes.

“A thousand years in the making?” he shouted, “You have no idea what a motivated pony can accomplish in a thousand years!”

Shafts of golden energy lanced out from his horn, knocking Luna back, and forcing Reaper to shield behind his cloak for a moment.

Luna recovered, flared her wings and resumed firing pulses of deep-violet magic at the Void’s periphery.

“I think I have a good idea of what can be accomplished!” she replied archly.

“And I know I do!” Reaper added, falling back a few paces, avoiding an advancing tendril. “I know what thousands upon thousands of years feel like!”

“Bah!” Grey Thorn spat, “you know only the quotidian grind of time, as you tediously clean up after Entropy!”

He turned to Luna with a sneer: “And you wasted your power toying with ponies’ dreams, when you could have been so much more!”

“My evil was sufficient, thank you!” Luna replied hotly, “I wrought more than enough woe with it to last another thousand years!”

“Oh, if only it could have been so!” Grey Thorn cried, rising ever higher with the Void, threatening to crest Reaper’s shield and Luna’s counterattacks, looming over the center of Appleloosa like a suspended tidal wave.

His eyes shone like golden diamonds: “With another thousand years, I could have achieved everything! With your dark majesty by my side, and Entropy’s errand colt eliminated, we could have feasted for eternity! We could have transcended Equestria and reached into the Cosmos!”

Luna recoiled in shock: “What do you mean “by your side?” I would never serve you!”

Grey Thorn brushed aside Luna’s nearly black bolt of energy: “Serve me? No–rule with me! I would have fed you all the power you could ever have wanted, while you kept Equestria’s ponies in a narcotic daze, docile and pliant.”

Now Reaper reacted with horror: “Disgusting! You would consume the essences of sentient creatures in order to continue your own endless existence! I can think of no finer candidate for Tartarus' Pit!”

He slashed at a tendril that had worked its way around the shield, and fired a crimson ball of energy at the heart of the Void.

Grey Thorn deflected Reaper’s attack, sending it careening into the town’s central fountain, blasting it to dust.

He laughed bitterly: “Oh, don’t sound so shocked, errand colt! It wasn’t my idea!”

“We know--Starswirl began the research…” Reaper replied.

“Began?” Grey Thorn shouted, “He nearly completed it! That twenty years you graced him were all the time he needed!”

“So you are a mere parasite after all!” cried Luna, swooping and pirouetting, attempting to get behind the Void.

“Don’t act so high-and-mighty, Nightmare-who-was!” Grey Thorn shot back, repositioning the Void so that she couldn’t slip behind him.

“He knew you were sliding into darkness,” he continued, delighting in exposing Luna’s hidden past, “he put it in his journals. He warned Celestia, but she was, as usual, indecisive. He could have stopped your transformation, though at great cost, but was unwilling to do the hard things required.”

A voice rang out clear and terrible from high above as a gold-and-white streak descended like a comet, leaving a burning heat trail in its wake: “Then let us do the hard things now!”

Balance of Power

Celestia hit the ground in a crouch, sending cracks radiating for yards, followed by a clap of thunder, and a sheet of blinding white flame that traveled into the heart of the Void faster than the eye could follow.

“You brag about your thousand years, and all the power it brought you!” she shouted, eyes blazing, horn glowing like the core of a star.

She stepped forward, teeth bared: “I’ll show you power! You won’t hunt my subjects, or torment my sister anymore!”

Grey Thorn squinted and sank back into the Void’s outer bands: “Torment? I think you misunderstand the dynamic! She tormented--I was just along to pick off those she had weakened, or even killed! We made an outstanding pair!”

“I’ll make you pay for your dirty lies!” Celestia replied, nostrils flared.

Luna cringed and dropped to the ground next to Celestia: “Come sister, let us fall back and consider how best to tackle this fiend!”

“Oh, don’t run away yet, Nightmare-who-was!” Grey Thorn taunted, “Surely your sister knows all about Zephyr, and Sea Foam, and Blue Velvet, and dozens of others through the centuries! Those whom you disemboweled or terrorized or raped to the point of death! I’m sure you’ve been fully open and honest with Her Highness, yes?”

Celestia furrowed her brow: “What is he saying, Luna? Were you truly responsible for deaths as Nightmare Moon?”

Luna chewed her lip; her ears drooped, and she looked away.

“Ladies, can we discuss this later?” Reaper asked, diving to the ground as Grey Thorn spun out multiple tendrils, tearing through the shield.

Celestia’s attention snapped back to Grey Thorn, and she rose several yards into the air, spreading her wings wide: “Whatever my sister may or may not have done as Nightmare Moon pales in comparison to your crimes, murderer!”

Grey Thorn raised an eyebrow and shot back: “And what of your own crimes, your Highness? You’re just as guilty as your old mentor!”

Reaper slid sideways, avoiding a ribbon of impenetrable blackness: “Don’t let him goad you, Celestia! He just wants to stall, and force you into doing something rash, out of anger!”

Celestia let out a short, mirthless laugh: “Ha! Stall for time? What more can he do in a few minutes that he hasn’t done while skulking around the dreamscape for a thousand years?”

She fired a streak of golden-white energy along the base of the Void, opening a blazing gash in the ground, filled with white-hot flames. Reaper took the opportunity to fall back a few yards and reestablish his shield.

“It won’t help anyway,” Celestia concluded, “I have troops arriving in another minute or two who will hem him in, and allow me to do something I’ve never really gotten to do: unleash my full power!”

Grey Thorn glanced up over the walls of flame and blue magic: “Right on time! You must be so proud of your minions!"

Luna looked over her shoulder and saw eight pegasi in tight formation, banking down from the clouds. Each wielded a glowing lance, tucked tight under his or her right foreleg.

“And they brought toys!” Grey Thorn said, firing a screen of coppery-red magic bolts at the descending pegasi.

The eight flyers split into two groups, deftly avoiding the attack. One group swooped down in front of Grey Thorn and his Void, the other wing swept behind and above, looking for any openings they might exploit.

Grey Thorn regarded his advancing opponents passively, remarking laconically, “Very pretty. But what do they do?”

Celestia fired a blast of pale magenta magic at Grey Thorn: “Show him, warriors!”

Luna added a beam of bright blue energy to her sister’s attack as the the eight guardsponies wheeled as one, and dove in tandem toward Grey Thorn, hurling their lances like thunderbolts.

The Void contracted, like a collapsing cyclone, deflecting several of the enchanted lances into nearby cottages and shops, which exploded as though struck by meteors.

One lance did manage to penetrate the Void’s swirling nimbus, but Grey Thorn froze it mid-air with ease, and sent a stygian tendril shooting back up the lance’s path, using its magical residue to act as a conduit. The tendril entangled the pegasus’ hoof.

“No!” Reaper cried out in alarm, propelling his sword upward like a javelin, seeking to sever the connection between the Void and its impending victim.

It was too late. The blade merely passed unheeded through the darkness, embedding itself in a nearby water tower. The pegasus shrieked in terror, his eyes frozen open, wings stroking frantically, attempting to break free.

Everypony looked on in horror as the doomed guardspony rapidly plunged toward the Void, and then suddenly stopped, as though he were an image in a paused movie.

For an instant he was framed against the Void’s perfect blackness, then it appeared as though he were made of some kind of viscous, living paint, trapped between two panes of glass, with the top pane swiftly moving sideways, smearing the image out of all recognition.

The pegasus made a horrible, wet gurgling noise as he disintegrated, then was gone, consumed by the Void.

“NO!!” his wingpony, Green Streak, screamed, “Top Cover! Nooo!!”

She dove after her partner before anypony could stop her, and she, too dissolved with a sudden, squelching sound, as the Void reached out to meet her suicidal descent.

Reaper summoned his sword back to his side, and cried out frantically to the horrified pegasi circling above, “Fall back, you idiots! You’re all going to get fucking killed at this rate!”

Luna’s shock broke first, and she raced forward, sweeping the sky clear of guardsponies, narrowly avoiding being entrapped herself.

Celestia howled in rage, and her eyes blazed with unearthly silver-white fire: “MURDERER!!”

A heat shimmer rose around her body, radiating outward like a shock wave, forcing Luna and the pegasi back over a hundred yards.

The air was suddenly filled with a squealing, crackling sound, and the smell of smoke as dozens of nearby structures began to smolder. Celestia let loose a primal scream.

The resulting blast of pure radiance vaporized a handful of buildings, the fountain and the water tower. It also left a perfectly smooth, molten-glass-lined crater, glowing cherry-red beneath a hovering Grey Thorn.

His eyes opened wide, and he cried out in ecstasy as Celestia’s power washed over him: “Oh, the beauty of it! I’ve never felt anything like it!!”

The tendrils of the Void, now standing out in such stark relief as to look almost like tears in the very fabric of space itself, wrapped themselves hungrily around the still-flowing beams of Celestia’s energy.

She furrowed her brow and began to struggle as the Void sucked away at her very essence, greedily consuming her cosmic fire, growing ever larger and stronger.

“Oh, shit!!” Reaper cried, dashing into the heart of the fire, “Celestia! You have to stop this attack--he’s feeding off it! You are pure life energy to him at this moment!”

Luna rushed forward, but was buffeted back by pulses of heat and light. She bit her lip and fired a beam of dark energy straight at her sister’s horn.

Celestia recoiled at the touch of Luna’s dark magic, blinking away tears, and shaking her head violently. The bond to the Void was broken.

“Nicely done!” Grey Thorn mocked. “I bet you’ve wanted to do that for centuries!”

Luna dodged past, avoiding the growing black nimbus which now encompassed much of the center of town. It looked eerily reminiscent of the cyclone in Starswirl’s dream.

She swept in next to her sister, helping her to the ground as Reaper threw up layer upon layer of deep blue shielding; he, too, had been inadvertently feeding off Celestia’s overabundant energy.

“Thank you, Luna!” Celestia gasped, as she regained her footing. Luna nodded, distractedly, and stared intently at the swirling Void, as it obliterated a row of cottages and a small outdoor theater.

Celestia noticed her sister’s furrowed brow and distant stare: “What’s wrong, Luna? What is it?”

“This looks like Startswirl’s last dream.”

Celestia was confused: “His last dream? I don’t understand? Why would that come to you now, of all times?”

Luna rubbed a hoof across her eyes: “It is as though I am seeing double--as though another is sharing that dream with me now, even beyond the dreamscape."

Luna’s ears suddenly drooped: “Oh, by the Blessed Night--I know where Twilight is!”

“Good to hear,” Reaper shouted over his shoulder as he slashed wave after wave of crimson energy at Grey Thorn, attempting to drain off both their reserves, and keep him occupied while Celestia recovered.

Suddenly, Grey Thorn, too, stopped and tipped his head to one side as though listening to a distant sound. The Void shuddered and contracted. He narrowed his eyes and glanced knowingly between Reaper and Luna, then he broke off the battle and began swiftly heading away, toward the north.

Reaper stumbled forward as the pressure against his barrier collapsed: “Um, can I assume he just figured out Twilight’s whereabouts, too?”

Luna nodded: “She is asleep, and dreaming. I can now locate her, and so can Grey Thorn, it would seem.”

“I don’t think I need to stress how important it is we get to her first!” Reaper said, trotting toward the Sisters. “You need to wake her up and alert her to her danger, Luna!”

Luna concurred: “I will see if I can reach her, but there is some sort of interference which prevents me from making a good connection!”

She closed her eyes and concentrated: “Reaper, I cannot tell you precisely where she is, but if you go to the base of the Old Tower, you should be close, and I can join you within a minute or two.”

Reaper nodded and sheathed his sword, preparing to depart: “make sure to run interference along the way, warning everypony to steer clear of that Void. You might also consider starting to evacuate Canterlot, too.”

Luna knelt down next to Celestia: “Will you be OK if I leave? I must join Reaper ahead of Grey Thorn’s arrival in Canterlot.”

Celestia nodded wearily: “I’m feeling better by the second, sister. You go get that monster, and I’ll catch up as fast as I can!”

Luna rose into the air and raced up and to the north as fast as her wings would carry her, as Reaper started to fade out.

Celestia called to Reaper just as he disappeared: “Is it true? Did Luna really do the things Grey Thorn said?”

“No--Luna didn’t,” he replied, “but Nightmare Moon did.”

“I hope I can live with the distinction,” Celestia said quietly, tears welling in her eyes.

“I hope so, too, because I’m not sure she can…”

Trespassing

Twilight dozed uneasily, flickering in and out of fragments of strange, disjointed dreams: Starswirl’s final encounter with Luna, but with Twilight standing in for Starswirl; Twilight taking Nightmare Moon’s place atop Zephyr, but the with the scene playing out in the great hall of the Sisters’ ruined castle; Reaper and Twilight standing in Ponyville’s graveyard, regarding five cracked and weathered headstones bearing her friends’ cutie marks.

It was in this dream that Luna found her, chatting casually with Reaper.

“You know,” Twilight said, “I can hardly even remember how I first met them. I’ve helped to bury so many generations of their descendants that I almost can’t tell the difference anymore.”

Reaper nodded solemnly: “That’s the way of it. You can’t hold on to all of it, or you would be consumed by grief.”

He turned and addressed Luna: “Speaking of…”

Luna ignored dream Reaper, and spoke urgently to Twilight: “Twilight! You must awaken--it is imperative! Grey Thorn is on his way here as we speak. You must hide yourself. We will join you shortly, but he may well precede us!”

Twilight sighed: “I’m tired of it all, Luna. You didn’t warn me. Celestia didn’t warn me.”

Luna put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder, shaking her: “I am warning you now!”

Twilight furrowed her brow: “What? No, not Greysward, er, Thorn--this!” She pointed to the rows of graves as Reaper began digging another hole a few yards in the background.

“I have to watch all my friends die over and over, for all time. And someday I have to stop caring,” she said sadly.

“That’s the way of it,” Reaper repeated as he finished the grave and lay down in it, “and now I get to stop caring, too.”

Twilight nodded and filled in the grave with a wave of her horn: “I’ll leave his unmarked. He would have wanted it that way.”

Luna shook Twilight’s shoulder again: “Twilight!” she shouted, “you must awaken! Grey Thorn will be there any minute! Get out if you can!”

Luna’s image flickered and faded. Twilight watched the dark indigo pony fade to to a washed-out blue, then disappear altogether, leaving only a glimmer of horn. She walked over and sat down on Reaper’s now-overgrown grave with a puzzled expression.

“Wait--Grey Thorn?”

Twilight’s eyes opened suddenly, and she struggled to sit up, pain washing over her again, bringing a fresh wave of nausea with it.

She rubbed her eyes and peered blearily around the secret library: “I don’t think that last part was a dream! That really felt like Luna.”

Twilight stood uneasily, scooped the scattered journals and notebooks into her bag, and shuffled back into the central study area.

“Get out? How?” she mused, pacing nervously. “There’s no way up those old, blocked stairs, and I can’t fly back out the hole. Wandering around these passages just seems like a waste of time!”

She headed toward the back of the chamber, to an area of wall not covered with shelves and maps and diagrams.

She chewed her lip for a moment: “I wonder…”

Her horn glowed a deep purple briefly, then shifted to a nearly-invisible black. She swept her head back and forth, illuminating ghostly glyphs and inscriptions as she did.

Twilight paused, then pulled a red notebook from her saddlebag. She flipped through several pages, then nodded knowingly, and placed the volume back in her bag.

She returned her attention to the wall, stepping behind a workbench and over a pile of scrolls. Again she opened a small nick in her left wrist, dipped the tip of her horn in the resulting blood, and leaned forward to trace a series of complimentary markings.

The wall shimmered and twisted for a moment, as though it were made of hot, dark glass, and an archway appeared. She passed through, and the wall returned to normal, leaving no trace of her passing.

The space beyond was pitch black, so she brought forth a burst of light from her horn, and gasped in horror at what it revealed.

Twilight beheld a large, rough-hewn, high-ceilinged chamber, at least 200 feet across, with a sunken pit along the far wall. The pit contained scores of skeletons, desiccated bodies, and partially-mummified creatures of various sorts. Some were ponies, but many, clearly, were not. The room had a stale, musty smell, like spoiled grain.

In a small alcove, near the entryway, stood a mirror--similar to the portal mirror Starswirl had crafted, and Twilight had used, but smaller and cruder. It was cracked, and caked with a thick layer of dust and cobwebs, but largely intact.

Twilight walked cautiously to the mirror, and investigated the various runes and engravings that were etched along its frame.

“Why another mirror?” she mused. “Is this one an earlier model, or did Grey Thorn create this one later, in imitation of Starswirl’s?”

She sat down on the stone floor in front of the mirror and pulled the three dark-brown journals out of her bag, spreading them out before her, searching for an references to mirrors or portals.

Twilight pored over numerous passages in all three volumes for several minutes, engrossed in trying to solve yet another ancient mystery.

Then her reverie was shattered by a muffled voice coming from the other side of the wall behind her.

“Where are you, Princess Twilight?” Grey Thorn said in a sing-song voice. “I know you’re here in these passages and caves somewhere--I sensed you dreaming. Did you actually manage to get into the study?”

Twilight froze, and stopped breathing for several moments until she felt sure he wasn’t about to pass through the wall as she had done. She silently scooped-up the books and slid them back into her bag, which she tucked behind the mirror.

She heard hoof-falls moving away, their echos becoming more distant, stopping altogether as Grey Thorn exited the study.

“What do I do now?” Twilight mused nervously. “Do I try to sneak back out through the study, or wait here? How do I let the others know where I am?”

She glanced at the darkened, blocked archway with a sudden realization: “Can I even get back out through that entrance?”

Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed heavily.

Reaper appeared at the base of the High Tower, a few yards from where Twilight had been sitting earlier. He began poking around the base of the tower, probing with his sword and magic, occasionally phasing his head and thrusting it into the stonework.

He was posed like this when Luna found him a few minutes later as she appeared with a burst of light.

“I apologize for my late arrival,” she said, stepping up beside Reaper. “I flew for a bit in order to get a sense of Grey Thorn’s bearings. I also let myself drift into a trance for a moment in an attempt to reach into Twilight’s dream.”

Reaper extracted his head from a slab of granite: “Any luck?”

“I believe so, though I cannot be certain,” Luna replied. “I was blocked at the end, and do not think I shall be able to reestablish a connection again.”

“Do me a favor,” Reaper asked, nodding at the wall, “sweep your dark magic across this area. I can’t phase into it.”

Luna nodded and ran several passes of dark magic across the area Twilight had earlier discovered. The glyphs, again, glowed.

Reaper glared: “Well those look familiar!”

“Indeed,” Luna said, peering closely. “Clearly, they were placed in an effort to ward you off. But I wonder what to make of these other runes?”

“I don’t know,” Reaper said, squinting, trying to discern their meaning. “I just wish Twilight was here with her notes and maps. This ward is effectively keeping me from penetrating the tower’s foundation, or the ground around it.”

He phased fully, until all that remained was a ghostly shadow, which sank into the earth about a foot: “That’s as far as I go.”

“Well there must be some way in,” Luna said, pacing side-to-side in front of the runes, “otherwise Twilight would not be below us now.”

“Agreed,” Reaper replied. “And I doubt she would have attempted a blind teleport, especially knowing that some kind of magic protections were in place.”

Suddenly Reaper snapped his head around to the south: “Whatever we do, we have to hurry--I can feel Grey Thorn coming! I doubt we have more than two minutes left.”

Luna began burning away the turf and brush along the base of the tower with her magic, looking for trapdoors, or anything hidden along the base of the tower. Then she noticed the white rose blossom amidst the brambles.

She cocked her head, and called to Reaper: “Come look at this. Is this not a white rose?”

Reaper stepped up beside Luna: “Indeed it is, set among the thorns. Stay here for a moment…”

He became nearly incorporeal, and stepped into the brambles and shrubs which concealed the hole through which Twilight had fallen. He looked down and tried to stick his head underground.

“Well,” Reaper said, his voice muffled, “the good news is, I think we found our way down. The bad news is, the wards over here are just as strong.”

He stepped out of the shrubs and onto the hole, rephasing to his most solid. He settled only a few inches into the opening.

He moved out of the way as Luna stepped in, trying to penetrate the ground. She grunted a little as she stamped and pawed at the earth.

She sighed: “Obviously there is more at work here than just wards against you. I suspect a magic repelling field that works against me, even if I do not directly use magic.”

“Then how did Twilight get in?” Reaper wondered.

Luna glared at the ground and the rose, then noticed a scrap of parchment stuck to a branch. She leaned forward and plucked it with her teeth, and walked clear of the shrubs.

“What’s that?” Reaper asked.

Luna squinted at the scrap and smiled: “You desired to have Twilight and her notes. I believe you just got your wish!”

Luna stepped back to the granite block containing the glyphs, and wrapped herself in a swirl of dark energy. She leaned forward and touched the symbols with her horn as Twilight had done earlier.

“Now let us see what we see!” she said.

Reaper walked back through the bushes and brambles, and stood over the opening. Again, he only sank a few inches.

“That’s a damn fine set of wards he cast!” Reaper exclaimed, stepping back away from the hole. “Let see what you can do.”

Luna stepped among the shrubs, and tentatively pushed hoof into the hole. The ground gave way and began to sag. She stepped back.

“So that is his trick,” Luna exclaimed. “His charms against you remain, but he disables the anti-magic field for a time in order to drop through this opening.”

“So how do we get me down there with you?” Reaper asked.

Luna pondered for a moment: “Enter me.”

Reaper grinned and raised an eyebrow: “Excuse me?”

Luna rolled her eyes: “Make yourself as incorporeal as you can, and join with me. I will wrap us in a dark magic bubble and drop through the opening.”

“Hmm,” he mused, “that might just work!”

Reaper phased to little more than a shadow, and walked through Luna, settling inside the space she occupied, like a second spirit.

She shuddered for a moment as an intense wave of cold overcame her, then she formed a black shell around herself and stepped through the hole, leaving no trace.

Luna fanned her wings out slightly as she felt the edges of the hole pass by, and executed a controlled fall to the debris-strewn floor below. Her dark magic bubble collapsed almost immediately, and she set her horn aglow, even before sitting up.

Reaper stepped out of her, and stumbled as he phased solid, almost before breaking free from her body.

“I have damn near no control over my form down here!” he gasped. “It’s a miracle I didn’t reform inside you just now!”

Luna nodded weakly: “It was all I could do to hold the dark magic shield together for just that reason! This dampening field is unlike anything I have ever encountered!”

Reaper started unsteadily down the passage, away from the entry hole: “We have to clear out of here. Grey Thorn will be here any second!”

Luna stumbled behind him, panting, trying to regain some semblance of control over her magic. Slowly her horn started to brighten as the magic dampening field weakened.

They entered the chamber at the end of the tunnel, and looked around the crudely-carved space, looking for evidence that Twilight had been there.

“Now we really do need Twilight and her maps and scraps!” Reaper exclaimed.

Luna concurred: “Yes, it would appear we must do some exploring in order to understand this labyrinth. Right or left?”

Reaper took in a deep breath: “Hold on. It looks like your magic is strengthening. Let me check something.”

He tried to phase, but merely flickered: “Shit! I was afraid of that. We’re going to have to stick together--no splitting up to cover more ground. I’m nearly helpless down here.”

Luna nodded: “To the right, then!”

Grey Thorn dropped to the floor below the opening just as Reaper and Luna moved into a broad, downward-sloping passageway leading away to the right from the low chamber. They heard his hoof-falls in the distance and froze, pressing against the wall of the tunnel.

Grey Thorn passed swiftly down the entry passageway, passing through the low chamber, heading left, without pausing, muttering to himself the whole time.

Luna leaned in close to Reaper’s ear. “He appears to have taken a different route,” she whispered.

Reaper nodded and quietly stepped away from the tunnel wall, heading back to the chamber they had just left, with Luna close behind.

They slipped stealthily around the final corner of the left-most passage and observed Grey Thorn standing before the chamber door Twilight had breached earlier.

Grey Thorn chewed his lip and examined the door closely: “You clever little bitch! Where are you hiding? How many secrets do you know? Not enough, I’ll warrant!”

He reached into a pouch hanging off a belt on his waist, and pulled out a vial. He pulled the stopper and dipped his horn into the bottle. He muttered a few words, and traced a symbol on the door with his horn.

The door swung open silently, and Grey Thorn entered the study, followed close behind by the Void, subdued and much diminished.

Reaper and Luna scurried up to the doorway and examined its surface; the glyph still glistened in the faint light cast by Luna’s horn.
Reaper got up close to the symbol and sniffed: “Blood.”

Luna furrowed her brow: “Is it likely that Twilight came this way? I doubt she carries the materials needed for dark incantations and charms of this sort!”

They fell silent as they heard Grey Thorn on the other side of the door: “Where are you, Princess Twilight? I know you’re here in these passages and caves somewhere--I sensed you dreaming. Did you actually manage to get into the study?”

Reaper and Luna fell back to one side of the doorway, and sheltered a few steps up the ruined stairway to the right; Luna deepened the concealing shadows with a touch of her own magic.

The door swung open, and Grey Thorn stepped out, the Void gathered about him like a ragged cloak. He headed back toward the passages and chambers from which Reaper and Luna had just come.

He moved through the opening, mumbling angrily, horn barely casting any light, and simply brushed the door lightly as he passed it. Luna sensed an opportunity, and snaked a ribbon of dark magic along the edge of the wall, lodging it between the door and its jamb.

Luna and Reaper stood stock-still until the faint glow from Grey Thorn’s horn disappeared down the tunnel on the far side of the chamber.

They then crept to the door and pulled it open, slipping inside, propping it open with a small stone so as not to become trapped.
Luna fully lit her horn, illuminating the study.

“Wow!” Reaper exclaimed. “I guess we know who cleared-out that not-quite-as-secret library above us!”

Luna nodded, awestruck: “The Royal Archivist would have a field day here!”

“To Tartarus with the Archivist! Twilight would likely never leave if she saw this place!” Reaper replied.

Luna nodded, still looking around with a dazed expression: “I wonder where she is, or if she did manage to get in here somehow.”

“Well, let’s look around and see if we can find any good clues as to her whereabouts,” Reaper replied, heading toward the sunken study area.

Luna joined him, and examined several of the strange books and artifacts strewn across the dusty worktables and desks.
“Where did he acquire all of this?” she wondered aloud.

“Who knows?” Reaper responded. “And which “he” do you mean? This stuff could be Starswirl’s, simply taken by Grey Thorn after the old wizard’s death.”

“Much of it was, yes,” Grey Thorn said, standing in the doorway.

Luna and Reaper were immediately on guard, Luna’s horn glowing a dark blue, Reaper’s sword out of its scabbard.

Grey Thorn kicked the stone away from the doorjamb: “I’m now sure Twilight entered this study, and here you two are. Clearly I need to revisit my security protocols!”

Reaper threw up a bright blue shield in front of himself and Luna, but it obviously was not nearly powerful enough to be of much use.

Grey Thorn grinned at Reaper’s discomfort: “Don’t worry, errand-colt, the same wards and charms Starswirl created, and I perfected to keep you at bay, also keep my dark extension subdued.”

He nodded at the Void swirling off to his side, just between his left hip and shoulder.

“But lest you get your hopes up, I have more than enough power to dispatch the two of you by myself, then absorb your essence, Princess, before I destroy you, Harbinger, and seek out Princess Twilight.”

Twilight’s voice rang out from the back of the study: “I’ll save you the trouble!”

Close Quarters

“So you did get in!” Grey Thorn marveled as Luna and Reaper worked their way warily toward the back wall of the study.

He regarded Twilight standing in the open entrance to the large chamber beyond, with a furrowed brow: “You are indeed clever and dangerous, it would seem, but so are your friends. Yet they needed me to open a door for them, I assume.”

Reaper and Luna had nearly reached Twilight, who lifted her head high, saying, “I possess a power you have never encountered, which has defeated several…”

“Helped to defeat several foes, would be more accurate, I think!” Grey Thorn interrupted, as he advanced across the study. “You had a host of friends at your back. I know the stories, Princess!”

He stopped for a moment and looked quizzically at the wall and its now-revealed entrance: “The dark magic I understand--both you and Nightmare-who-was possess some measure, but how did you trigger…?”

A look of comprehension suddenly broke across Grey Thorn’s face: “You’re a virgin!”

Reaper cocked an eyebrow and leaned in toward Luna: “Is she?”

Luna shrugged: “It would not surprise me--she does spend a great deal of time with her “nose in the books,” as Celestia puts it.”

Twilight blushed furiously, but snorted defiantly: “Well it looks like my choice of pastime has worked out fine, don’t you think?”

Reaper chuckled: “Considering it may get you killed? You might want to rethink that one!”

“Indeed!” Grey Thorn replied. “You should have stayed in a lover’s bed or your own library, and spared yourself this encounter!”

Luna bristled and backed into the entrance next to Twilight: “Then you do not know her! Twilight has never shied away from conflict, no matter the peril!”

Grey Thorn continued to advance on the three ponies as they backed through the opening into the large, dark, theater-like chamber beyond.

“Then I shall especially enjoy adding her distinctive fire and character to my own! I have spent too many centuries harvesting the essences of the worn-out and broken,” Grey Thorn said, eyes blazing with a golden light as he too, passed through the entrance.

As Reaper crossed the threshold he felt a sudden rush of power, and he broke to his left, toward the alcove containing the ancient mirror.

Then he stopped, suddenly realizing why he felt his powers return. He turned back toward Luna and Twilight in a panic.

“Oh, shit--it’s a trap!” he shouted, “Don’t let him close that door!”

But it was too late. Twilight and Luna both looked at Reaper with confused expressions, as Grey Thorn touched the door frame with his horn, sealing the exit.

Grey Thorn nodded toward Twilight, a malicious smile on his face: “She is clever and resourceful, but lacks your particular, shall we say, skill set.”

Luna backed further away as the Void began to swell and billow like a malevolent cloud, regaining much of its former volume.

“I do not understand!” she shouted.

“And neither do you possess the errand-colt’s senses, Nightmare-who-was. Nor do you seem to be as quick-witted as your understudy,” Grey Thorn said, sweeping further into the chamber, turning to face his opponents as he rose a few feet off the floor.

Reaper dashed over to join his companions: “The wards and charms don’t work in here! I can feel my full power returning, but that means he can unleash the Void again!”

“Precisely!” Grey Thorn shouted triumphantly, drifting a few more yards toward the back wall, near the pit full of bones and remains.

The Void began to tower, nearly touching the roof of the chamber, as Twilight ran back to the exit, frantically lifting her hoof in order to pierce her wrist.

“Just hold him off for a minute, and I’ll get this door open again!” she shouted as dark tendrils began shooting toward her.

Luna and Reaper stepped in between Twilight and Grey Thorn in an attempt to hold him at bay, long enough for Twilight to reopen the exit.

Luna lifted off the floor several feet and focused an intense beam of dark magic directly at Grey Thorn’s horn, as Reaper swept his sword in a tight arc, raising a shimmering violet barrier.

Twilight succeeded in nicking herself more deeply than she intended, and she cried out in pain: “Dammit! Sorry--I’m shaking! Give me a second!”

She dipped her horn in the trickle of blood, but lost sight of the glyphs as Grey Thorn barked out a word of power, and the chamber went entirely dark.

“You don’t think I’ll let you out that easily, do you?” Grey Thorn said, moving away from the rear wall back toward Twilight and her companions.

Luna and Reaper both caused their horns to blaze forth with light, again, allowing Twilight to focus on her dark magic summoning of the symbols.

“Please hurry, Twilight!” Luna called out, alternating between attacks and providing light. “His darkness spell is powerful, and I cannot both fight and illuminate!”

Reaper stepped forward, toward Grey Thorn, who was now almost invisible, wrapped in the Void’s impenetrable nimbus, swallowed in the vast darkness of the chamber.

“The dark doesn’t bother me, warlock,” Reaper shouted, “I’ve spent millennia in it! I can hold you off for more than enough time!”

Grey Thorn furrowed his brow and dropped to the floor, drifting toward the mirror alcove, seeking a better angle-of-attack.

The Void shrank down to a tight cylinder, swirling against Grey Thorn’s hip.

“Unfortunately, you are correct,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Your friend there has nearly finished her task, and you can indeed, prevent my extensions from reaching the exit before she finishes.”

Reaper closed the gap with Grey Thorn, sword glowing deep blue, ready to generate a new shield, as Luna leaned close to the exit, lending a burst of her own dark magic, as Twilight touched her horn to the door.

The door’s surface rippled for a moment as Twilight tipped her head back, bumping into Luna. Reaper glanced back toward the two alicorns.

Suddenly a dart of intense gold light lanced through the gloom, striking Twilight in the temple.

Grey Thorn’s voice boomed out: “SLEEP!”

Twilight dropped as though struck dead, falling awkwardly over the exit’s threshold.

Reaper’s head snapped around, and he locked his eyes on Grey Thorn’s: “What did you do?”

“While you are doing a credible job of blocking my extensions,” Grey Thorn admitted, “you seem to underestimate my power as a centuries-old spell-caster!”

Luna bent down, looking closely at Twilight’s face. She stood back up, relieved: “She merely slumbers. It is a deep sleep, to be sure, but I can free her from it momentarily.”

Grey Thorn smiled: “You might, but I suspect you’re going to be rather involved, yourself.”

Luna tipped her head quizzically, and opened her mouth to speak, as Reaper circled closer to Grey Thorn, his own horn glowing. He noticed the mirror in the alcove behind Grey Thorn, shimmering faintly in the presence of so much magic.

Again Grey Thorn closed his eyes, and another beam of golden magic sliced through the dark: “SLEEP!”

Luna’s eyes fluttered drunkenly: “Wha--how?!”

She collapsed next to Twilight, a wing draped across both their bodies, a trickle of drool dripping from her open mouth.

Reaper chewed his lower lip for a moment, as Grey Thorn took a deep, shuddering breath and opened his eyes slowly.

“Do you know,” he said unsteadily, “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work.”

Reaper slowly took another step forward as as the Void pulled away from Grey Thorn slightly, drifting toward the sleeping forms on the floor.

Grey Thorn shook his head, and rubbed his temple: “Now, what shall I do about you?”

“I was thinking the very same thing!” Reaper exclaimed, lunging forward suddenly, firing a blast of crimson energy at the Void, while phasing to his least tangible, passing through the Void’s dark nimbus.

Grey Thorn reared back in alarm, and Reaper took advantage of the opening to thrust his shoulder into Grey Thorn’s chest, driving him straight backwards.

Before Grey Thorn could regain his balance, or pull the Void back tightly to himself, Reaper gave one last shove, and plunged himself, Grey Thorn and the Void through the rippling surface of the mirror.

Grey Thorn’s howl of rage echoed for a moment, then the chamber fell silent, save for the heavy breathing of the two sleeping Princesses.

Beautiful Dreamer

Twilight’s eyes fluttered open, and she strained to focus on the mass of rust red and pale violet hair filling her vision. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and pushed away slightly from the warm, soft shape, now revealed as a pony’s mane.

Moondancer’s deep-purple eyes opened for a moment, then squeezed shut as she yawned, and nuzzled against Twilight’s neck.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” Moondancer murmured, nibbling lightly under Twilight’s jawline, “I’ve been watching you doze for a while, now. You were really tired, I guess!”

Twilight reached under Moondancer’s chin, tipped her face upward, and pressed her mouth against Moondancer’s, giving her a deep, soft kiss.

She drew back and smiled: “I was really tired! You would not believe the crazy dreams I had all night!”

Moondancer grinned, and squeezed her body tight against Twilight’s, sliding her hind legs between Twilight’s, spreading both their legs open.

“I had some interesting dreams, too!” she said, returning Twilight’s kiss as she pressed her pelvis against Twilight’s, sliding their warm loins together.

Twilight put one hoof behind Moondancer’s head, holding their kiss firmly in place, as her other hoof slid down between their abdomens, brushing against Moondancer’s ruddy nipples.

Moondancer moaned softly into Twilight’s mouth as Twilight’s hoof rubbed gently against her warm, damp opening.

Twilight then rolled her hip, separating and shifting her legs, thrusting her own sex against Moondancer’s, the urgent motion of her hoof stimulating them both.

Twilight dozed off again with her and Moondancer’s cries echoing in her ears, her whole body awash with a hot, intoxicating tingle.

Twilight awoke again, an hour later, to the scents of tea and fresh scones, wafting in from the kitchen. She untangled herself from the sweat-dampened sheets, and stood up, stretching luxuriously.

Moondancer stepped into the bedroom, her wet mane wrapped in a towel, smelling of fresh lilac: “You want to shower before or after some breakfast?”

Twilight regarded her lover’s smooth, wet body appreciatively: “I think I’m still hungry for other things!”

Moondancer grinned and blushed: “Not now, naughty pony! You have a meeting with Cadance’s architect in just under an hour, and you know as well as I do, that when you’re “hungry” you don’t finish “eating” for at least an hour!”

Twilight advanced, but Moondancer sidestepped, and magically pulled her towel free, tossing it in Twilight’s face. She giggled and dashed into the kitchen.

Twilight laughed, placed the towel over a rod in the still-steamy bathroom, and joined her partner in the sun-dappled breakfast nook.

“It smells wonderful!” Twilight said as she sat at the table, pulling a cinnamon scone and cup of tea in front of her.

Moondancer also took a seat, magically pulling her hair up into a ponytail, sliding her glasses on, and dropping a scone onto her own plate. She looked across the table into Twilight’s eyes and smiled.

“It’s a new recipe,” she said. “I had one the other day when the team went out to lunch.”

She took a sip of tea: “So what crazy dreams? You sure were restless while you slept!”

Twilight swallowed a bite of scone: “Oh, wow--they had a bit of everything! I was living in Ponyville…”

“Ponyville? Isn’t that a small town south of here?” Moondancer interrupted. “Why Ponyville?”

“I have no idea,” Twilight replied, “but I had a group of friends, and we battled monsters and Nightmare Moon, and I became an alicorn and a Princess, and I had a castle, and it was all just nuts!”

Moondancer took a sip of tea: “Nuts is right! An alicorn? I can’t imagine you with wings! Minuette and Lemon Hearts will just die when you tell them this story at the dinner this weekend!”

Twilight furrowed her brow and nodded as she blew across the top of her tea mug: “That’s right--Cadance’s baby-shower-dinner-thing is this weekend!”

“How can you keep forgetting that?” Moondancer asked, as she stood, and walked to the kitchen sink with her plate, “You see her all the time these days!”

Twilight shrugged: “It all just blurs together. If I’m not meeting her designers about the new Crystal Empire library, I’m helping her with the foundation to actually stock and staff the damn thing, and it’s all a rush-job to get it done before her baby comes, and we all have to pack up and relocate to the Crystal Empire!”

Moondancer smiled sympathetically: “Well, at least today’s meeting should be quick, shouldn’t it? They accepted the “Tree of Knowledge” design you preferred, yes?”

Twilight dropped another scone on her plate, and nodded: “I’m not even really sure why we’re having a meeting this morning! Cadance and I signed-off on our favorite, and we’re meeting with the foundation board this afternoon. Just another case of ‘i’ dotting and ‘T’ crossing I guess…”

Moondancer stepped through a pair of glass double doors onto a small balcony.

“I will miss all this when we move,” she said looking out over Canterlot’s main square, “but the chance to help Cadance and your brother rebuild their domain is too exciting to pass up!”

Twilight pushed back from the table, and stepped up beside Moondancer, nuzzling her neck.

“It’s gonna be awesome!” Twilight said. “I mean I’m nervous--I’ve never lived away from Canterlot, and I’ve never had this kind of responsibility before, but Cadance trusts me, and I know I won’t let her down!”

Moondancer turned to face Twilight, eyes glittering, and leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips.

Twilight felt that wave of heat rush through her veins, warming her loins, stirring the familiar itch, again.

She slid her body between Moondancer and the balcony rail, and began to push her back into their apartment, never breaking the kiss.

“And as my first executive decision,” Twilight muttered into Moondancer’s half-open, waiting mouth, “I’m canceling this morning’s meeting--I have more important things to do!”

Moondancer backed all the way to the bedroom, bumping the door open with her rump.

“And more important ponies to do, too!” she said breathlessly, dropping onto the bed on her back, hind legs spread, front legs stretched out, beckoning.

Twilight grinned and knelt down at the foot of the bed, burying her muzzle in Moondancer’s loins.

Moondancer cried out, back arched, hooves twisting and pulling at Twilight’s mane, for minute after aching minute, her eyes pressed shut tightly, breath coming in ragged bursts.

Twilight felt her lover’s exhausted body finally collapse, and she worked her way up between Moondancer’s legs, dragging her tongue tip from Moondancer’s engorged folds, over her nipples and navel, ending in her open, panting mouth.

“Oh, sweet Celestia, lovermare--that thing you do with your horn!” Moondancer gasped, wrapping both sets of legs around Twilight’s body, trying to stop the shuddering.

Twilight grinned wickedly, licking her lips, luxuriating in Moondancer’s rich musk and quivering body: “Catch your breath, cutie, and I’ll walk you through how it works!”

She rolled sideways and flopped her legs out, spreading dramatically across the bed and Moondancer.

“Give...me...a...second,” Moondancer said breathlessly, nuzzling against Twilight’s chest, sliding a forehoof down between her loins.

Twilight squeezed her legs together tightly around Moondancer’s hoof and began to grind against it slowly.

She glanced out the room’s open bay window at the setting sun, and noticed the crescent moon just above and to the sun’s left.

Moondancer stretched her neck just enough to gently bite at Twilight’s ear, tugging it lightly, tipping her face downward.

As her head was pulled down, Twilight’s eye fell on a bright-red candle, burning on a side table. She furrowed her brow as Moondancer’s mare-musk was mingled with the scent of strawberries.

“Moony,” she said, “where did you get that candle? I don’t remember seeing it before.”

Moondancer stopped nibbling and sucking at Twilight’s ear, and turned her head over her shoulder: “Oh, that? The new girl in the office brought it as a gift. She makes beeswax candles. She’s quite the farm mare--even brought snacks for everypony the first day!”

Twilight’s stomach dropped as a cold wave seemed to wash over her: “Strawberries?” she asked tentatively.

“Yeah, how did you know?” Moondancer replied, returning her attention to Twilight’s neck.

She established a steady, circular rhythm with her forehoof as Twilight’s hind legs slowly spread open.

Twilight closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pale moonlight now spilling across the bed, and the omnipresent scent of strawberries.

She bit her lip as the tension built in her loins and in her mind: “Wha-what’s her name?”

Moondancer had worked her mouth down Twilight’s abdomen, now, and paused with her lips against her navel.

“Hmm?” she said, “Her name? It’s Dew Drop. You’ll get to meet her this weekend at Cadance’s shower thing, and hear all her Vanhoofer stories!”

Twilight clenched her teeth, trying to stop the rising waves of both ecstasy and panic.

“Dew--Dew Drop?” she stuttered.

Moondancer nodded and laid her head on Twilight’s belly: “That’s right--you don’t know her. But you’ll meet her at the party, when we all celebrate Cadance’s baby and the new library, and all of it!”

Twilight shuddered as Moondancer’s warm, wet tongue slipped delicately between her loins. She squeezed her eyes tightly as tears leaked out, glittering in the moonlight.

“It’s all so great!” Moondancer cried lustily, moments before burying her face between Twilight’s trembling legs. “Isn’t it everything you’ve ever dreamed of?”

“It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” Twilight agreed in a breathless whisper, her body wracked with spasms of ecstasy, and sobs of inconsolable sorrow.

“But it’s not enough…”

Twilight awoke suddenly with a gasp, accompanied by a fresh shot of pain from her damaged wing, which was now pinned against the cold, stone floor.

She propped herself up on one foreleg, and gingerly moved Luna’s wing aside, before blearily peering around the dark, silent chamber.

She looked down at Luna’s slack, sleeping face, and hot tears sprang to her eyes: “Why did you interfere, Luna? I would have been happy! I was so happy!”

Sobs welled up unbidden from deep in her chest, and she hunched over Luna’s body, weeping bitter tears, which dropped like rain onto her cutie mark, blurring the crescent moon.

"Sisters"

Luna lay still for a moment, eyes closed, gauging her surroundings by sound and smell: a haunted wind whistling through cracked and broken stonework, the smell of damp, mossy stone.

“I suppose I should have expected this,” she mumbled, rubbing her hoof across her muzzle.

She sat up and opened her eyes, then turned to face the other occupant of the hall, seated directly behind her.

“Welcome, True Sister!” said Nightmare Moon, seated atop a crumbling throne.

Luna sighed: “Reaper was right--this is cliché!”

Nightmare Moon arched an eyebrow, and waved a hoof in the air dismissively.

Now the two alicorns were in Celestia’s royal audience hall. It appeared to have suffered a heavy attack: windows were blown out, part of the roof was torn away, holes were blasted through the floor, several shattered pony skeletons lay in a heap in the entryway.

And at the center of it all sat Nightmare Moon, at the top of the dais, on a tattered, blood-encrusted throne.

Luna walked up the steps to the top of the dais, and noticed, as she approached, that the “throne” was actually Celestia’s broken and desiccated body, pinioned across the ruins of her former seat, shredded wings spread wide and held up by bloody spears.

Luna shook her head disgustedly: “Still a cliché.”

“Perhaps,” offered Nightmare Moon, “but you cannot deny that you have longed to see this come to fruition!”

“I deny it categorically! You desired to see it, not me!” Luna replied, hotly.

Nightmare Moon chuckled derisively: “A distinction without a difference, dear True Sister. You were me--are me!”

“I was you, yes for a time…”

“A very long time!”

“But you are me no more!”

Nightmare Moon paced in a circle around Luna: “You may fool the others with that line, True Sister, you may even fool The Bitch, but you cannot fool me!”

“I do not seek to fool anypony, least of all Celestia! In fact, I do not believe I could fool…”

Nightmare Moon cut her off sharply: “You will refer to that fucking cunt by her proper title, 'The Bitch!'”

She turned and spat into the left eye socket of the skull behind her head.

Luna furrowed her brow: “Am I truly this dramatic?”

Nightmare Moon looked back at Luna, blinked slowly and smiled: “I normally take a bit more time and care. I usually raise my tail and urinate on her skull.”

Luna shook her head and slowly descended the dais, looking at the pile of bones at the chamber’s entrance. She turned at the bottom and looked back up at her dark counterpart, in time to see Nightmare Moon’s tail drop back to its resting position as she stepped down from the now-dripping throne.

Luna rolled her eyes: “So, what are we to do, now?”

“Whatever you so desire, True Sister!” Nightmare Moon replied. “Grey Thorn has graced you with unlimited power in this dream to do anything you like!”

Luna raised an eyebrow: “I can already do that!”

“Really?” Nightmare Moon taunted, “Then explain the Tantabus! If you truly are all-powerful here, why would you need to punish yourself? Why do you continue to haunt our old, broken-down castle?”

“Because of what I was--what you are! I have spent several days, now, revisiting my sins, reliving their horror!”

Nightmare Moon’s eyes widened: “I know! The blood! The seed! The tears! The fluids of life! How alive they all made me, even in dream forms!”

Luna recoiled: “And how dead it made the victims!”

Nightmare Moon glared: “So what? They were all burnt flesh in the end, destined for Reaper’s touch and oblivion!”

“Even were that true,” Luna replied evenly, “it is a better fate than that offered by Grey Thorn and his monster!”

“And a waste! Reaper comes along and cleans up the mess, instead of Grey Thorn making true use of these ponies and their spirits. He gives them the gift of becoming a part of him--living on through him!”

Luna arched an eyebrow: “You mean like an apple “living on” through the pony who eats it?”

Nightmare Moon chuckled: “I suppose so, but at least those Grey Thorn absorbs do not get shit out in the end!”

“A distinction without a difference,” Luna replied dryly.

Nightmare Moon flashed a wicked grin: “Ha! Perhaps, but irrelevant for us. Grey Thorn does not want to absorb us--he wants to rule with us, feeding on ponies’ essences in a shadow world of our...”

Luna interrupted: “Yes, yes--I have heard his delusion first-hoof; I do not need to hear it repeated by, well, myself!”

Nightmare Moon regarded Luna coldly: “It is no delusion, True Sister. In short order he will defeat, or at least neutralize, Reaper, then absorb The Usurper’s energy. Nopony can stop him: not you, certainly not The Bitch--nopony!”

“Be that as it may,” Luna replied, “I have to at least try. I have come too far in my redemption to backslide into the madness that you represent.”

“Madness?” Nightmare Moon responded.

Luna walked to the middle of the chamber, which now contained Zephyr’s wasted body, lying next to the blood-soaked tangle of bones and offal that was all that remained of Heavy Gauge.

“Yes, False Sister--madness. This,” she said as she swept her hoof over the remains, “is the extreme to which you drove yourself--not The Bitch--you!”

Luna’s nostrils flared as she advanced on Nightmare Moon: “So consumed were you--were we--with self-pity and rage, and eventually self-loathing, that it spun out-of-control, and we became a grotesque!”

Nightmare Moon ground her teeth: “Perhaps it would have been best if our last dream had been fulfilled…”

Two figures appeared on the darkened, silent, sterile surface of the moon, a few hundred yards from the terminator.

Nightmare Moon glided forward like a ghost, leaving no hoofprints, until she reached the boundary between the safety of her dark prison, and the terrible, purifying radiance of her sister.

She paused for a moment, and looked back over her shoulder at Luna, who stood still as a statue, as Nightmare Moon stepped out into the naked light. She writhed as colorless flames consumed her hide, and her mouth stretched in a silent scream while her flesh boiled away, her bones crumbling like dry bread.

Luna turned away, and returned to the ruins of her dream castle.

Nightmare Moon appeared a moment later, and sat on the floor next to Luna.

“I suppose that was The Bitch’s version of mercy,” she said, poking at Luna’s nearly-complete collection of armor.

“I always interpreted it in that fashion,” Luna replied, looking out the open roof at the stars. “A final escape if we so desired.”

“She should have destroyed us.”

“But she didn’t, and I have to honor the faith that implies.”

Suddenly both alicorns glanced up at the portal banner hanging limply above them, as images began to flicker across it.

Nightmare Moon tipped her head to one side and smiled slyly: “Well, I wonder if she would still qualify as a virgin after that!”

Luna rolled her eyes: “I suppose I should send this dream of hers off-course before she becomes enmeshed in it any deeper.”

She directed a pulse of magic from her horn at the banner, then turned away.

Nightmare Moon continued to watch the scene with interest: “She really would have lain there, trapped in that dream until she died, would she not?”

Luna nodded: “And I suspect that was Grey Thorn’s intent for me, as well.”

Nightmare Moon shrugged: “You can leave anytime…”

“Of course I can.”

“Why does he fear death so?”

“Why did we fear rejection and loneliness so?”

Both alicorns looked up through the open roof as their attention was drawn to a new, six-pointed star, pulsing brightly above them.

Nightmare Moon sighed: “It appears The Usurper is trying to wake you.”

“Yes. I suppose it is time for me to go--she needs me. Equestria needs me.”

Luna faded away, leaving Nightmare Moon alone.

“That must be nice.”

A Lesson in Entropy

A rush of colors and shapes streaked by Reaper as he fell through the mirror, struggling to restrain Grey Thorn lest he break free and disappear before wherever they were had a chance to resolve and settle.

Grey Thorn slashed at Reaper with his horn, and pawed at him attempting to dislodge his opponent's grasp, but to no avail--Reaper clung all the tighter, knowing a slip would lead to either being stranded, or consumed by the Void.

After a bit less than a minute, the sensation of falling stopped, and the swirling kaleidoscope organized into a rainbow-like pattern of muted, slowly-shifting colors, spreading out in all directions. The two combatants drifted to a stop and separated.

Reaper drew his sword and assumed a defensive stance, but Grey Thorn sat down and chewed his lower lip, looking distracted.

Reaper raised an eyebrow, sheathed his sword, and sat down nearby.

“So,” he began, cheerfully, “where are we? I assume this isn’t your first trip through that mirror.”

Grey Thorn glared back: “No. It is not. We are in a nexus of sorts, and all around you are portals to other worlds, other realities.”

Reaper looked up at the endless array of iridescent globes hovering above them.

“Alright,” he said, “so now what?”

Grey Thorn rose from the ground menacingly: “I destroy you, get my bearings, and return to my chambers to finish dealing with the two sleeping Princesses!”

Reaper nodded his acknowledgement, then shook his head: “I don’t think so. You might as well take a seat; we’re going to be here a while.”

Grey Thorn stopped, and responded uncertainly, “what do you mean? I have you at my mercy, with nopony to aid you!”

Reaper nodded again, a nod that turned into another shake of his head: “You have it backwards. You, my monstrous adversary, are at my mercy--well, mine and that thing of yours!”

He pointed at the Void, now much-diminished, hovering just behind Grey Thorn.

Grey Thorn furrowed his brow and glanced quickly over his shoulder: “What of my extension? It is a part of me--I have nothing to fear from it!”

Reaper’s face fell into a bored expression: “Look--we’re stuck together. Let’s dispense with the posturing and horseshit, please!”

He pointed again at the Void: “You know as well as I do that you don’t really control that thing--not anymore, anyway. It’s not an extension, it is, at best a symbiont.”

Grey Thorn took a step back and narrowed his eyes: “So? I have had centuries of mastery over this creation, and I--”

Reaper interrupted, “And that’s the problem: you spent centuries in Nightmare Moon’s “hothouse,” feeding that thing, growing ever more interconnected as it grew ever more ravenous. But when she changed back to Luna, and you lost your easy hunting grounds, you suddenly found that Void was too much to handle, without a new source of ever-more-energetic victims.”

Grey Thorn sat down uneasily, his eyes shifting, as though looking for an exit.

Reaper dropped into a more-comfortable, reclined position, before continuing: “You called me “Entropy’s errand-colt” as an insult, but there is some truth to it. As such, I know an imbalanced system when I see one, and you, sir, are on the wrong side of the equation!”

Grey Thorn glowered: “Then I shall just have to rebalance the equation a bit--with you!”

Reaper rolled his eyes: “Really? That’s the best you have? Surely you know I have no life energy or essence, at least not in the conventional sense.”

He unsheathed his sword: “Secondly, do you recall when I threw this at one of that thing’s tendrils, back in Appleloosa? It passed straight through. Likewise, I just phased right through the cloud or nimbus or whatever shrouds the Void itself.”

Reaper smiled: “That thing has no effect on me.”

Grey Thorn opened his mouth to object, but Reaper cut him off: “Oh, to be sure, if I jumped straight into the heart of the Void, I would likely meet the same fate as that poor, foolhardy bastard who dove in after her wingpony.”

Grey Thorn tipped his chin up proudly: “I guarantee it!”

“Granted,” Reaper concurred. “But short of that, your symbiont is no threat to me--especially outside of Equestria. It and I are both clearly bound to Equestria.”

“In fact,” he said, bringing his sword in close to trim a front hoof, “it’s a much greater threat to you!”

Grey Thorn bristled defiantly: “I will simply diminish my draw on it, so it may conserve its energy.”

“Two problems with that, G.T.,” Reaper replied, “One: that thing’s not like Tartarus’ Pit. Oh, you’ve made a pretty good model of it there, but the Pit simply is. It just sits there and exists, across all time, across all realities. It neither consumes nor emits.”

Reaper smiled sadly, and began paring his other front hoof: “Unfortunately for you, your version is more like a device or living thing. I’m sure it’s quite efficient, but Entropy always has the final word, and no equation balances perfectly. That thing must absorb energy--it’s in its nature.”

Grey Thorn licked his lips nervously.

Reaper stood up, resheathed his blade and stretched: “And don’t forget the second, similar problem--me.”

It was Grey Thorn’s turn to grin: “How? Your sword? Your magic? My unicorn magic far surpasses yours! You’re no longer in Equestria, and just as my extension is bereft of much of its power, so too are you defanged!”

Reaper nodded: “That’s true. Sort of.”

Grey Thorn looked puzzled: “You either have power, or you do not!”

“I’m not talking about power,” Reaper replied. “In much the same way as your symbiont absorbs ponies’ essences, I absorb the energy around me. If that energy is sunlight--great! If it’s the life energy of plants and insects, well, that’s OK, too, as long as I don’t stay in one place too long. But if there’s no living thing anywhere near me other than one, solitary pony, well…”

He shrugged apologetically.

Grey Thorn shot to his feet and began backing away.

Reaper walked slowly forward, keeping pace, staying just far enough away to avoid the Void: “So as I see it, you don’t really have any choice, caught as you are between a rock and a hard place, but to take us back through the correct portal at some point in time.”

“I-I don’t recall which one it is!” Grey Thorn stammered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Reaper sighed: “Do you recall my earlier request regarding horseshit? Of course you know where it is! I’m sure you used that mirror many times on your various specimen-slash-sacrifice-gathering trips!”

Grey Thorn furrowed his brow: “Specimen? Sacrifice?”

“I’m Death’s agent--don’t you think I recognize non-pony remains when I see them?” Reaper replied. “I saw various bones on one of the work tables, and spied whole skeletons at the back of your creation chamber.”

He took another step forward: “That’s where we just were, isn’t it? The place you created that thing! That’s why it has the special barrier wall and no wards. That’s why the back wall is piled with victims’ remains!”

“Yes,” Grey Thorn replied, “it is the point of my maximum power, and you are unwise to wish for a return, for it would be you and me alone, and it would be over very quickly!”

“Well, not alone,” Reaper responded. “I expect Luna will be awake shortly, and rouse Twilight, then who knows what they’ll do?”

Grey Thorn bristled: “I think not! You underestimate my power! I have been observing Nightmare Moon for centuries, learning her techniques for instigating and deepening sleep, watching her craft totally-immersive dream-states!”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s true,” Reaper admitted, “and you might be able to knock Twilight out, but there’s no way the Mistress of Sleep and Dreams is falling to an amateur, no matter how talented! It’s just a matter of time.”

He looked up at the various portal-orbs, hovering above them: “Speaking of--how long have we been here? How does time pass here? Why, we might have been gone for days by now, in Equestrian terms!”

Grey Thorn shuddered violently, and the Void suddenly surged forward, causing Reaper to quickly spring sideways in order to avoid becoming ensnared.

Grey Thorn took this opportunity to jump up, off the nexus’ plain. He shot rapidly toward one of the shimmering orbs.

Reaper’s horn pulsed a deep violet, as he reached out with his magic, snagging Grey Thorn’s tail: “Oh, I don’t think so! I’m sticking to you like a burr in a mane!” His sword swept out of its scabbard reflexively.

Grey Thorn looked over his shoulder, and began firing bursts of magic at Reaper in an effort to dislodge him. Reaper parried the golden darts with his blade, while keeping a tight focus on Grey Thorn’s tail.

“We’d better hurry back, before Twilight ransacks your study, and figures out how to defeat you!” Reaper taunted, as he and Grey Thorn hurtled from orb to orb, passing briefly through reality after reality, their bodies shifting and transforming rapidly.

Reaper gritted his teeth and focused on maintaining contact with Grey Thorn at all costs. He fought to clear his mouth as they crashed through the surface an ocean for a split second, briefly gaining glittering scales and elegant fins.

Grey Thorn howled in rage as they shot out of the water, heading for the portal: “Release me!”

Reaper sputtered and spit out a mouthful of water as they reemerged over the nexus: “I’ll gladly let you go the second we pass back through the mirror on Equestria!”

“Hey!” he then shouted, in mock alarm, “What if they destroyed the mirror! What if we destroyed the mirror when I shoved us through? It did look pretty cracked and fragile!”

“No!” Grey Thorn shouted in panic, suddenly cutting hard to the right, heading for another shimmering orb. “I cannot be trapped here!”

“Well then let’s head back home and finish this, once and for all!” Reaper suggested, bracing for another portal trip, ready to release Grey Thorn the instant they hit the floor back in his lair.

“As you wish, Harbinger!” Grey Thorn spat back, bitterly, “But I do not think this will end well for you!”

They passed through the gossamer surface of the orb, and time and space bent around them wildly.

“Just as long as it ends badly for you, too!” Reaper replied grimly.

A Living Nightmare

“Princess Luna! Princess Luna, please wake up!”

Twilight sat on the cold stone floor, listening to her voice echo in the dark, empty chamber beyond. She was exhausted, hungry, scared and in pain, and her companion would not awaken.

She stood up and wobbled uneasily into the large, open space.

“I don’t know where they went, Luna! I can’t tell if they’re still around, or if they went back to the surface, or what!”

Twilight slowly made her way over to the mirror alcove: “There seems to be residual magic here. I don’t know--maybe they went through this mirror?”

She stepped forward, peering intently at the mirror’s hazy, cracked surface: “I’m not even sure if this would still work, damaged like this!”

She walked slowly back toward Luna, looking from side-to-side, searching for signs of a struggle, or heavy magic use, or anything of note.

“I’m sorry I was mad, Luna,” she said loudly, trying to keep her mind occupied, as well as in an attempt to arouse the still-sleeping Princess. “I was just so happy there! I know it was an illusion, but it felt so real!”

“It can feel that way, sometimes,” Luna replied, pushing herself wearily off the floor, into a reclining position.

“Oh, thank Celestia!” Twilight cried, trotting back to the chamber’s entrance, where Luna now sat, rubbing her eyes and stretching her wings behind her back.

Twilight knelt down next to Luna, and looked at her face: “Is everything OK? I guess he knocked you out, too! How could he do that?”

“He surprised me.” Luna said, coolly. She stood and looked around the great, dark space for a moment.

“What can we do now?” Twilight asked, stepping back toward the mirror. “I don’t even know where they are!”

Luna glanced down at her breastplate, and adjusted it, then paused, noticing a dark spot on the floor. She bent down and reached out for a moment with a thin band of magic.

She straightened up, and stepped through the entryway: “You can stay here or leave as you see fit. I must go.”

Twilight spun around, facing Luna with a look of alarm: “Go?! How can you go? They could be back any second!”

Luna looked back and nodded curtly: “Nevertheless, I must go. I will return.”

Twilight furrowed her brow: “I don’t understand!”

“You will.”

Twilight slid a small, heavy box into the doorway to prevent the door from closing, and wandered, dispirited and exhausted, through the shelves and stacks of Grey Thorn’s study, pulling various volumes off the shelf, flipping quickly through the pages, and dropping them on the floor in two separate piles.

“'Concerning Pony Longevity, Vol. 3'...so where are volumes one and two, I wonder?” she mused, pulling the book off its stand and placing it atop a pile.

She turned back to the long shelves, filled with multicolored notebooks, scanning for anything black or dark brown.

“He is organized, I’ll give him that!” Twilight muttered, pulling several red notebooks down, “I just wish I understood the organization better! Where would he keep his current research…?”

She glanced over her right shoulder at the sunken study with a pensive look, and began to move toward it: “Ugh--that place!”

She sighed heavily: “Yeah, that’s where I’d keep active stuff too, I guess. Though it doesn’t look very active anymore!”

Twilight walked warily back down into the study, avoiding looking directly at most of the devices, specimens and plans spread out over the various benches and tables.

“Books, books--looking for books,” she muttered under her breath, glancing from side-to-side, scanning with her peripheral vision. She spotted a likely target.

“Ah, finally--a book that just sits there without being all weird and wonky!” she exclaimed, stepping up to a low workbench.

Twilight reached out with her magic and lifted the thick, hide-bound diary from the bench’s surface, turning it over, peering intently at its dark grey exterior: “I wonder what this cover material is?”

She stepped out of the study area, and set the diary down on a large box: “I suppose I should start to sort some of this.”

She walked back toward the two piles, and began to levitate several volumes toward her, setting them atop the diary.

Suddenly, a flash of light appeared in the entry to the large chamber, accompanied by a low, whistling sound.

Twilight rushed to the doorway, several books trailing behind her, and stepped through, being careful not to dislodge the blocking box.

She cleared the entrance just in time to see Grey Thorn tumble out of the mirror, with Reaper hard on his heels.

He shouted, “Twilight! Take cover! His Void’s going to come into full bloom again in a just a second, and it really needs to feed!”

She glanced around the floor along the wall, looking for a place to deposit the books she’d inadvertently brought with her. She noticed multiple small fissures and potholes scattered all across the chamber’s floor, and dropped the books in one, just to the left of the entrance. She slid a rock over the hole, and turned to face the two combatants.

As Reaper indicated, Grey Thorn and the Void had recovered their native strength and form, and were now positioned along the back wall, over the remains pit.

Reaper swept out his blade and threw up a bright blue web, shielding himself, and momentarily trapping Grey Thorn against the rough-hewn wall.

He took a step back, and looked over his shoulder at Twilight: “Don’t take this the wrong way--I’m glad to see you up-and-around--but where the fuck is Luna?!”

“I don’t know!” Twilight replied trotting forward toward the fray, “She woke up, barely said two words to me, then left!”

“Ha!” Grey Thorn shouted as he sent multiple dark tendrils at Reaper’s barrier, tearing holes and gaps in it, “She’s wiser than either of you! Clearly she recognized the futility of this battle, and has decided to flee!”

“Never!” Twilight shouted in rage, firing bolt after bolt of magic at Grey Thorn and the Void, seeking to press him back, away from Reaper’s tattered barrier.

“She would never abandon her friends--not now!” Twilight continued, “She isn’t that dark, evil pony you knew anymore!”

Grey Thorn rose several feet higher and spread out his forelegs. His horn glowed a deep coppery-red, and the skeletons in the pit below began to rise and assemble themselves, shambling forward, passing through Reaper’s shield.

“Excuse the distraction,” he said mockingly, “but I need some shock troops to loosen your grip on this annoying barrier! It won’t take a moment, then we can get intimate again!”

Reaper stepped back another pace, and began firing bursts of crimson magic from his horn: “Shit! Combat’s not really my forte! Twilight--can you do something about those?”

Twilight grinned wickedly: “I can do better than “something”--two can play at this game!”

Her horn shimmered with an oily black radiance, and ribbons of dark magic surged forth, touching the skeletons and desiccated corpses, turning them against each other.

“Oh, very nice, Princess!” Grey Thorn teased, “I’m sure your mentor would be delighted by your new-found skills! Even Starswirl avoided animating the dead!”

Twilight flushed angrily: “I’m not animating them--you did that! I’m simply taking control of them!”

“Well, speaking of animating,” Grey Thorn replied, waving a hoof over the heaving pile of bones and tattered flesh, “perhaps you would prefer to control this one! I picked her up on my way back from Appleloosa, near the castle!”

Twilight focused on the pony shape, shambling awkwardly out of the scrum, not a shriveled corpse, or skeleton, but a whole pony: broken and bleeding, but not ancient.

She squinted, then recoiled in horror as a pale bluish-grey unicorn mare advanced, her white and violet mane and tail in tatters.

“Oh, Celestia, NO!” Twilight screamed, “MOM!”

She staggered back several paces, bile rising in her throat, vision blurred by tears.

“To her credit,” Grey Thorn teased, “she fought more valiantly than many others! Her vigorous essence aided me greatly!”

“It’s a trick!” Reaper shouted, sweeping aside several skeletons, regenerating his bright blue shield, avoiding a dark tendril.

“Oh, Reaper!” Twilight cried, her voice breaking, “How can you know that! If he really did absorb her, you wouldn’t have even known that it happened!”

“Dammit, Twilight--death is my business!” Reaper replied, “I know a real dead body when I see one! This is just an illusion! Haven’t you seen enough totally-believable dreams lately to understand how good some ponies are at this?”

Images of her passionate embrace with Moondancer flashed through her mind: “I--I don’t know…”

Reaper pivoted to his left and tossed his head back, then down in a swift nod. A brilliant golden flame flared out from his horn, like a sword blade wrapped in a phoenix wing.

The energy band swept out and down, slicing through "Twilight Velvet’s" body, severing it in two, just behind the shoulders. It fell to the floor and crumbled back into tattered hide and dry bones.

Twilight gasped and jumped back, then she laid her ears down flat against her head, spat out the bile, and turned back to Grey Thorn, eyes ablaze.

“How dare you, you son of a bitch!” she raged, power surging to the tip of her horn, sparks flying.

“Don’t worry, child,” Grey Thorn replied smugly, “that vision will come to pass, soon enough!”

Twilight screamed in fury as a ball of swirling purple and black energy exploded from her horn, racing toward Grey Thorn, wreathing him in sheets of magical flame and lightning, dissolving dozens of animated skeletons and corpses in the process.

Grey Thorn dropped to the floor, stunned, as the Void shrank back for a moment: “Wha--what was that?!”

Reaper pressed his advantage, stepping forward, reforming his barrier: “You keep underestimating your opponents, G.T.! This young one possesses an ancient power the likes of which I’ve never seen!”

Grey Thorn rose again from the floor, held aloft by the Void’s shrouding nimbus: “And I shall relish its incorporation into myself!”

The Void suddenly towered above Reaper and Twilight as Grey Thorn put forth all his effort, and poured all his native power into it. A solid wall of tendrils hit Reaper’s barrier, shredding it, and throwing him backwards. He rolled across the chamber floor, sliding to a stop, and hopping back up immediately.

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold him back, Twilight!” He shouted, sending a fresh wave of blue shield magic forward, snuffing out the Void’s advance, briefly.

“I know!” Twilight replied breathlessly, pouring out a burst of bright, violet energy as she staggered to her right on the uneven floor, “I’m trying!”

“I know you’re tired! I know you’re injured! Try harder!” Reaper urged, sending surge after surge of barrier energy forth, using them as active attacks on the Void’s tendrils, “We can’t let him overcome us and break out! This has to end here!”

From behind him Nightmare Moon’s cold, cruel voice cut through the din: “I agree. This will end here!”

Betrayal

Reaper froze, closed his eyes and sighed, “Oh, that can’t be good!”

Twilight looked over her right shoulder toward the chamber’s entrance, and cried out in horror, “Oh, Luna, no!! Why?!”

Grey Thorn chuckled, “I think, the ‘why’ is clear enough: as I said, she realized the futility of this battle. It’s the ‘how’ that I don’t understand! How did you get past my entry wards and charms?”

Nightmare Moon stepped into the chamber, her eyes blank, glowing with a cold, silver light: “The Usurper left me two gifts.”

She tipped her horn down toward her breast, and a shiny, wet, red blob rose from behind her cuirass, rising up until it rested on the tip of her horn. Twilight looked down at the dark line of dried blood crusted on the inside of her left foreleg.

Nightmare Moon then turned back to the entry, kicked the box aside that was blocking the door, and touched her horn to the one of the glyphs, now glowing in the presence of her dark energy.

“And in that spirit, I will give The Bitch two gifts,” she said as the wall suddenly shimmered and became transparent, taking on the appearance of smoked glass.

She turned back to the others: “Now when she finds the note I left her--her first gift--she will come here and watch the end of everything she holds dear!”

Nightmare Moon began walking slowly into the chamber, her greaves ringing on the stone floor, eyes glowing, the light from the others’ horns glinting off her helmet.

She stopped and looked back over her shoulder for a moment: “And she can stand there, impotent and trapped, just as I was, and taste the bitterness of a defeat that will last well beyond a thousand years!”

Twilight wept openly as Reaper shook his head: “Why? You know he’s lying to you! Only one can control and take from that vile thing, and it damn sure won’t be you!”

Nightmare Moon stopped and lifted her head haughtily: “That is undoubtedly true, Harbinger, and the day will come, someday, when I decide to eliminate him, too, you can rest assured!”

Grey Thorn laughed with delight, his eyes ablaze: “Spectacular! And on that day, Nightmare-who-is-again, we will have a glorious battle!”

“But in the meantime,” he continued, dropping to the floor of the chamber, stepping forward, sweeping his horn’s magic across Reaper’s barrier, dissolving it, “let us dispense with these two, and bring this farce to a conclusion!”

Twilight turned to face Grey Thorn, casting a fresh barrier in respectable imitation of Reaper’s, as Reaper advanced on Nightmare Moon slowly and warily, sword hovering in front of him.

“Don’t make me do this, Luna, please! You know I can separate your spirit from your flesh in the blink of an eye--you’ve seen me do it!”

Grey Thorn stopped, licked his lips nervously, and watched Reaper advance on Nightmare Moon. The Void loomed behind him, probing and pressing at Twilight’s barrier.

“‘Tis true that I fear you, Harbinger,” Nightmare Moon said as she broke into a trot, head down, horn aglow, “but I fear Grey Thorn and his creation more! I do this because I desire to live--and to live in the dark, fearsome majesty I have long been denied, even if it means sharing dominion!”

“Oh, Luna, no!” Twilight sobbed, fighting off the Void’s advances, though nearly blinded by tears, “Your majesty shines through the love and friendship you share with all of us!”

“A pale imitation of true majesty--a majesty which will also be denied to you quite shortly!” Nightmare Moon snorted contemptuously.

Reaper assumed a defensive crouch, his blade poised to strike, as Nightmare Moon thundered down the final few yards, wings outspread, horn glittering: “I’m begging you, Luna--don’t do this!”

The dark alicorn, armor and accouterments clanking and glittering, bore down on Reaper, leaping at the last moment, exposing her belly and chest to his upraised blade.

“Let us see if Death’s slave can die, too!” she cried, flashing a feral grin.

Twilight screamed in the background, and Grey Thorn leaned forward, eyes wide with anticipation, as Nightmare Moon descended on Reaper with her front hooves.

In those final moments, Reaper’s mind raced, noticing discrepancies as Nightmare Moon closed the gap at speed: her cuirass was cracked, with a chain dangling loose; one of her greaves was damaged; her helmet was dented.

He stayed his blade for one last instant as she looked down on his upturned face, froth at the corners of her mouth, nostrils flared, eyes flashing, clearing for a moment, then flashing again: her fully-dilated, aquamarine, round eyes.

Reaper turned his sword a fraction of an inch, and phased so that the greaved hooves passed through his neck and shoulder, kicking up sparks and dust. He cried out in pain and rage.

At the same time his blade bit into the armored breastplate, skittering aside, clattering to the floor, and he collapsed in a heap as the retreating hind legs kicked free, passing through the side of his face.

Reaper flopped onto his side as though stunned, and moaned, surreptitiously opening one eye, just enough to see the dark form, wings flared, speeding toward Twilight.

“Oh, Blessed Cosmos, please let me be right!” he whispered.

Grey Thorn strained forward, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts, separating slightly from the Void in order to get a clearer view of Twilight as the dark, speeding form bore down on her.

“No, no, no, Luna!” Twilight sobbed, falling forward on her knees as her violet shield bubble collapsed, and the Void surged.

She looked up one last time to see blank, glowing eyes, a blazing horn, and slicing hooves bearing down on her: a perfect vision of Death. Her anus clenched reflexively as her bowels turned to water, and she squeezed her tear-streaked eyes shut a final time, just as her sight was filled with a silver-white flash, accompanied by a ‘pop.’

...which was matched by a teleport “flash-pop” directly in front of Grey Thorn.

Luna drove her dark-magic-charged horn its full length into Grey Thorn’s chest, ending with a “crunch” as her helmet shattered his sternum, spattering the top of her head with blood. His eyes flew open and he looked down, stunned and horrified.

“Wha-what have you done?!” he sputtered, as blood gushed and bubbled into his mouth, spraying down his chest, splattering across Luna’s muzzle.

Reaper scrambled to his feet and began galloping as fast as he could toward Twilight, sword flying to him as he ran.

“Get out of there, Luna! Fall back!” he shouted as he threw up another barrier shield in front of Twilight, who was now crouched forward, holding her abdomen, fighting back sobs.

Grey Thorn frantically pawed at Luna’s face, trying to push her away, as the Void suddenly loomed over all four combatants. Luna planted her hooves, and violently yanked her head up and sideways, shattering Grey Thorn’s ribcage, tearing through one of his lungs, and releasing a gout of blood, which gushed across her breastplate.

Luna stumbled backwards as Grey Thorn collapsed, clutching at his chest, sputtering out power words, pulling the Void in close in an effort to feed off its energy.

Reaper stopped next to Twilight, who was trying to stand, still blinking away tears: “Move it Princess, we have to get away from that thing! Luna just pulled off as brilliant a combat maneuver as I’ve ever seen--and it’s probably going to get us all destroyed!”

She moaned and retched a little: “I--I--my stomach, oh, Celestia, my stomach!”

“We have to go!” Reaper shouted in her ear, tugging on her mane with his magic, “I don’t care if you shit yourself where you stand, we have to back away as far as possible! He’ll be dead any minute, and when he goes, that Void will be totally uncontrolled!”

Reaper helped Twilight stagger toward the chamber entrance, as Luna dashed away from the suddenly sprawling, swelling Void.

Grey Thorn struggled to his knees and summoned the Void to him, wrapping himself in its nimbus, siphoning off as much energy as he could in an attempt to support his waning life force.

He gasped: “I--I will recover from this! I-I can use it to heal, to stave you off, errand-colt!”

“Idiot!” Reaper shouted back, casting up sheet after sheet of deep blue barrier, “You’re a dead stallion and you don’t even know it!”

“No! N-no--I am master of it,” Grey Thorn gurgled, retching blood on his hooves, “Watch!”

The three companions watched as Grey Thorn’s bones and flesh did indeed begin to knit and fill-in, but only for a moment. The Void began to separate again, and press forward toward the chamber’s front wall, leaving Grey Thorn gasping and reeling.

Suddenly there was a banging at the wall; Celestia’s face appeared through the darkened, glassy material, flanked by two pegasus guards and a pair of earth ponies, bearing pick axes.

Celestia turned to the other ponies and said something that could not be heard clearly by those on the other side, but the intent was clear: the four ponies quickly moved away, apparently leaving the study altogether.

All at once, as though the sun had just risen, the chamber was filled with a blinding radiance, and a wave of heat forced the three companions to move away from the barrier wall a few feet.

Reaper turned to fully face the glow, closing his eyes and luxuriating for a moment in the wave of power it brought him.

His eyes flew open, wide with alarm: “Shit! Luna--can you darken this wall again? That kind of power flowing into this space might actually allow Grey Thorn to recover a bit!”

All eyes turned to the back of the chamber, where Grey Thorn was indeed attempting to focus the Void as best as he could in order to capture Celestia’s power.

Luna nodded and sent a pulse of dark magic at the center of the door: “Forgive me sister…”

The chamber went dark again, save for the glow from four horns, which was rapidly being swallowed up by the ever-expanding Void.

“Now what?” Twilight asked. “Shouldn’t we leave? I can open the door again, if you give me a second…”

But as she spoke the words, Grey Thorn surged forward, borne up on the Void’s nimbus and tendrils. Black ribbons lashed out at the alicorns, seeking their essences, and they scattered from the doorway as Reaper swung his sword, throwing up a series of barriers.

Grey Thorn leaned toward the door and spoke a pair of power words. The outline of the door glowed gold and crimson for a moment, then went dark.

“Nopony is leaving here!” he shouted hoarsely, blood foaming on his lips, dripping from his nose. “This is the origin place of my creation, and here I can use it to its greatest potential, saving myself, and destroying you!”

Twilight ran up next to Reaper as Luna took to the air, turning back and firing bolts of dark magic back toward Grey Thorn.

“Can he really do that?” she asked.

“No, he’s dead--it’s just a matter of time,” Reaper replied. “It’s what happens when he finally dies that has me worried.”

Luna landed next to Reaper and Twilight: “Then what shall we do? He is returning as we speak, and I do not think we can hold off another concerted attack by that thing!”

Reaper chewed his lip for a moment: “Do you trust me?”

Twilight and Luna exchanged glances, then looked at Reaper: “Yes.”

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

“You’re not going to like this, but here we go…”

Reaping

Reaper generated one last shield, thwarting three dark tendrils for a moment. Another half-dozen pitch-black ribbons shot out of the heart of the Void as Grey Thorn gasped and struggled to maintain consciousness.

Reaper turned to Luna and Twilight: “OK--I’m going to cut around the end of this shield, and engage Grey Thorn as close-in as I can. I’m not affected by the pull of that thing, nor by the cloud it generates. I want to drain him of what little life energy he has left, so he either dies or is sucked inside that Void of his!”

“What should we do?” asked Twilight, “I don’t know how much more energy I have left. I don’t think my attacks will have much effect!”

“No attacks!” He shouted, as he dashed off to the right, “Pump every scrap of power you have into that shield, and hold on for dear life!”

Reaper cleared the end of the shield, and began hurling crimson bolts at Grey Thorn, running directly in the path of the Void’s nimbus, slashing at tendrils with his sword.

“Come on, you warlock!” he shouted as he ran, looking up at Grey Thorn, suspended limply, several feet off the floor, blood running down his front legs.

Grey Thorn’s horn flashed a deep gold, and a blast of magic scored the floor next to Reaper, as two tendrils lashed out, nearly entangling him.

Reaper rolled hard to his left, sending out another wave of magic from his horn, blinding Grey Thorn for a moment.

“What are you so afraid of, old-timer?” Reaper yelled, as he turned in for another pass. “Do you resent me for taking your mother? Or taking your mentor? Your time has come, one way or another, so you need to make your peace, now, before your own creation does the job I should have done a thousand years ago!”

“It is my creation! My servant! Even now, weakened as I am, it still lifts me up, and obeys my will!” Grey Thorn gasped as the Void lunged forward, nearly dropping him.

Reaper dashed behind Grey Thorn and the Void, brushing the back wall of the chamber, stumbling on shattered bones and skulls:

“How’re you two holding up, over there? I can’t see much of the shield!”

Luna shouted back, “I believe we may make it yet! Twilight and I are just holding the shield intact!”

“Hold on another second--I’ll be right there!” Reaper replied, sliding around the left side of the Void, phasing and passing through the swirling nimbus.

“We might just get out of this OK, after all!”

Reaper slid to a sudden stop, and shielded his eyes as a blinding beam of pure white radiance fell across his face. He glanced back at Grey Thorn in alarm, and saw several more pencil-thin beams of searing white light pierce the Void’s outer gloom.

“Oh, shit!” he cried out, and began running back toward Luna and Twilight. He could hear the distant howls of Celestia’s rage.

“It appears my sister may actually succeed in burning through the barrier wall!” Luna said. “Impressive!”

“Not the word I’d use!” Reaper replied, hastily rebuilding the crumbling shield, as the Void swelled, and Grey Thorn roused, his torn and bleeding chest beginning to mend.

Grey Thorn coughed out a mouthful of blood: “It appears everypony thought to bring gifts today!”

The Void rose like a tidal wave, nearly blotting out the ceiling, as more ribbons of Celestia’s energy streamed through fissures in the barrier wall.

Reaper gritted his teeth: “We have to end this now!”

He leaped over the barrier wall, shouting back over his shoulder: “Fight with every ounce of strength you have! When this shield falls, dig in and resist ‘til the bitter end!”

He formed a brilliant blue wedge of shield energy in front of his sword, and rammed straight into the swirling mass of dark cloud at the base of the Void, his horn firing a continual crimson beam at Grey Thorn.

Grey Thorn gasped as Reaper’s magic lanced across his wounded chest: “I agree--let us end this!”

The Void crashed like a falling tower, sweeping aside the shield, sending Reaper tumbling off to one side. It shot out a dozen new tendrils, nearly subsuming Grey Thorn in the process, sucking in air, dust and debris.

Twilight and Luna formed their own protective bubbles, and leaned forward, digging their hooves into the floor, laying their ears flat.

Reaper ran toward them, dodging four new tendrils, slashing and phasing as fast as he could: “Fight!! Dig in! Give everything you have!!”

Bright gashes were now appearing on the barrier wall, making a stark contrast with the Stygian blackness of the Void, backlighting the two alicorns as their protective bubbles tore away. They began to scream.

Reaper phased through two more tendrils as the Void poured in behind him like flood waters.

“This is it!” he cried, “Don’t move! Resist! Put your heads down and pour your power out like your life’s blood!”

Luna and Twilight knelt forward, hooves scraping as they were pulled forward, and touched their horns to the floor, sending out sheets of blue and purple magic in an effort to stay their slide. It was to no avail.

Twilight toppled forward, wings stretched wide, crying out in pain and terror, as Reaper slashed through a tendril with a blue-tinged sweep of his sword.

He landed just behind Twilight, who was struggling to get her back legs under her again, but was losing her balance, and was an instant from rolling forward into three waiting tendrils.

With a single, swift thrust of his magic, Reaper drove his sword down through Twilight’s right hip. It penetrated through the length of her upper leg, and emerged below the back of her knee, driving several inches into the stone floor below.

She shrieked in agony and fainted, collapsing forward. But she was pinned to the floor, and was no longer sliding toward the Void.

Without breaking stride, Reaper finished his sword stroke, and bounded toward Luna, who was also tottering forward, being pulled off her feet, a look of panic in her eyes.

“Point your horn at the floor and give it all you have!” Reaper shouted as he reared back and leaped into the air, hind legs leading.

He landed with full force on the back of Luna’s head, driving her horn into the rock beneath her face, denting her helmet and smashing in her mouth and nose.

Luna gave out a muffled cry of pain and fear, spattering the dust with her blood, but she, too, was stuck fast.

Reaper jumped away from the now-prostrate alicorns, sliding to a stop directly in front of them, tipping forward and pouring all the energy he could muster into repelling the Void.

“You are truly alone, now, Harbinger!” Grey Thorn crowed, “So let me clean up after you, for once!”

The Void began to pull in everything in front of it with an irresistible suction. Even Reaper began to slide slowly forward into the looming darkness.

“Do it!!” he cried “Unleash this abomination on all Equestria! It will be your legacy!”

Whole sections of the barrier, weakened by Celestia’s assault, began to split and peel away, allowing waves of pure solar rage to flow through.

“Yes!” Grey Thorn shrieked, eyes ablaze with naked power, as the Void spread out against the crumbling ceiling like a thunderhead.

Twilight’s pinned body twitched and strained as the Void’s pull started tearing it to pieces, ripping away her wings and forelegs, as blood poured out on the floor, only to be whisked away into the maelstrom. She let out a choked whimper as she drowned in her own blood.

Likewise, at that same moment, Luna’s body lifted partially from the floor and twisted sideways at a grotesque angle around her stationary head. Her neck snapped, and her eyes rolled up in her head.

“STOP!!”

Everything in the chamber froze. The Void towered above Twilight’s shattered remains, and Luna’s twisted, broken body. It spread behind an exultant Grey Thorn like a vast, evil bird of prey, mere inches from his back. It rose in front of Reaper like the very End of Time incarnate.

Then Reaper stepped forward, as though walking out of a picture, and turned back to the two dead Princess’ bodies.

He walked up first to Twilight and leaned forward, touching his horn to her severed head. Then he stepped over to Luna and touched his horn to hers. A faint shimmer arose from both bodies.

He turned around again, and regarded Grey Thorn: “You’re right--everypony did bring a gift today! They brought the gifts of their lives, and you provided the gift of death!”

“I know you can’t hear me now--not in the conventional sense--but your mind can perceive my thoughts,” he continued, taking another step forward, peering closely at the margins of the Void.

Reaper tipped his head sideways and stared into Grey Thorn’s eyes: “And you finally underestimated your opponents one, last time. The power of death and its resolution in Equestria is given to me, and to me alone. At this place, for this moment, my authority is unrivaled: not yours, not Celestia’s, not the Void’s--mine.”

He took several steps back and looked over his shoulder at Luna’s dark, bulging eyes: “The instant those two died, I was put in charge. Their spirits are now beyond your grasp, and in a moment, when I release the suppression field, you too will meet your end.”

He looked up and down the length of the Void: “It’s not possible, but I can actually sense this thing quivering, just beyond the bounds of my perception. All things in this place are frozen in perfect suspense, but still it strains! Amazing! Your old master would have been impressed--horrified, but impressed!”

Reaper took a half-step to his left, gauging his distance to Grey Thorn, noting his exact location within the Void: “He also knew enough never to create such a monstrosity; but again, you overreached.”

“And though it would be just to let you be consumed by your own obscene creation,” he said, focusing his magical energies, again, into the form of a golden phoenix-wing-blade, blooming forth from his horn, “we’re going to trade gifts one last time.”

Reaper squared his shoulders and adjusted his cloak: “I really hope this works…”

Time suddenly resumed, and the chamber was, again, a swirling, cacophonous maelstrom of tendrils, debris, alicorn blood and feathers, and the Void, which was, at that very moment, swallowing a panicked Grey Thorn.

Reaper dove forward into the heart of the Void, driving his golden blade of magic through Grey Thorn’s chest just as both ponies were pulled inside. They screamed in tandem as the Void suddenly contracted, spinning and collapsing in on itself.

The entire chamber became as black as the Pit for an instant as all light and air were sucked into the very center of the Void with a crashing sound as though the ocean had poured all at once through the ceiling.

Then everything fell utterly silent. Celestia ceased her assault on the barrier wall, and the Void, now a perfect sphere the size of a watermelon, drifted slowly to the floor, passing through the stone surface like red-hot iron through snow.

Reaper dropped heavily to the floor and lay there, sprawled on his side and semi-conscious for a moment, until he was roused by Celestia’s howl of anguish.

As Grey Thorn died many of his wards and charms had dissolved, allowing the door to the chamber to swing open as Celestia threw her shoulder against it, and dashed into the room.

She froze in horror as she surveyed the smear that had been Twilight, her leg still staked to the floor by Reaper’s blade, and Luna’s twisted form, partially crushed under a stone block that had fallen from the ceiling.

She screamed at Reaper in rage and grief, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

Reaper staggered to his hooves and turned to face Celestia as she bore down on him, eyes ablaze, pure white radiance jetting forth from her horn in a torrent.

He ducked his head and pulled his cloak across his shoulder and face as the beam coursed over and around him, turning the stone beneath his hooves molten, and scouring out a foot-deep scar all the way to the chamber’s back wall.

Reaper wobbled a few feet to his left and squinted at Celestia: “Damn it to Tartarus, Celestia, stop! I need you to focus for a minute. I’m going to try to fix this, but I need you to get hold of yourself!”

Celestia stopped in her tracks and burst into tears, running back to Luna, lifting the stone from atop her corpse and tossing it aside.

“Wha-what can you do for them now?! They’re gone!” she cried as she knelt next to her sister’s body.

Two earth pony workers and a guard unicorn tentatively stuck their heads through the entrance, and stepped inside, trying to focus as the swirling dust cleared.

“Where’s Princess Twilight?” asked one of the earth ponies, a moment before he saw her shredded leg sticking up from the floor. He furrowed his brow and tracked the smear of blood and shit from that point across the floor to the center of the room, where a pile of gore was all that remained.

The work pony retched and fell back to the doorway, coughing and spewing vomit across his co-worker’s legs as he ran.

Reaper stumbled toward his sword, retrieving it, and shooing away the traumatized guard unicorn, who stood between the Princesses’ remains, shuddering and weeping.

“Celestia! Damn it--focus!” he shouted as he stopped next to her.

Celestia was sitting next to Luna’s still body, weeping and stroking her crumpled left wing: “Oh little sister, what will I do without you?”

“If you help keep everypony out of this space, you might not have to find out!” Reaper interjected sharply.

Celestia’s head snapped up as she glared: “Butcher! What more damage can you do?! There’s nothing left of Twilight, and Luna is shattered! Just leave me here to grieve...”

Reaper closed his eyes and spoke slowly, “If you will please get everypony out of here, I will see if I can’t make Entropy come out on the wrong side for once. I didn’t come into this without a plan, you know!”

He gently helped Celestia up, and guided her a few steps away. He then levitated Luna’s limp, oozing body, and placed it next to the largest remaining piece of Twilight’s torso.

Reaper folded his legs under and knelt down between the two bodies: “I’ll be gone about a minute, and if this doesn’t work, I’ll stand against the wall and let you do your worst!”

He dropped his head, closed his eyes, and faded into translucence.

Interlude

Luna’s eyes slowly opened, taking in the sight of an endless, dimly-lit, empty gray plain. She blinked slowly, ran a hoof down her muzzle, and sat up. She saw Twilight sprawled out a few feet away, eyelids fluttering.

Twilight squeezed her eyes shut tightly, and shuddered: “I really never wanted to be here again!”

Luna nodded: “I, too, am not fond of this place. And I wonder why we are here at all.”

Twilight rolled to her side and propped her head up on her hoof: “Well, I assume, because we’re dead!”

Luna smiled: “Cleary. What I meant was, why are we still here? Reaper should have been here by now to escort us on beyond the bounds of this world.”

“Maybe he was destroyed, too,” Twilight remarked, closing her eyes, again, and laying her head back on the floor.

“A most disturbing thought,” Luna replied. “If that is true, then you and I will be stuck in this place for a very long time! And having been in exile before, I am in no hurry to experience its dismal charms again!”

Twilight rolled onto her back, wings outspread: “Yeah, I can understand that. I was just getting used to the idea of living for a really long time. I’d rather not have to get used to being dead for a really long time, now!”

Luna furrowed her brow: “Do you refer to the dream in which I found you prior to Grey Thorn’s arrival?”

Twilight folded her forelegs behind her head and stared up at the endless expanse above her: “That’s the one--the dream where I was in the graveyard looking at all my friends and their descendants’ headstones.”

Luna nodded: “It is a hard thing to see all whom you love wither away. Eventually you do begin to forget their faces. It is a bittersweet relief.”

Suddenly the space was filled with a flash of gold and crimson light, and a low, rumbling hum.

Twilight sat up: “What was that?”

Luna shrugged: “I have no idea. I have only been here briefly a few times, and I have no sense of how it operates. It reminds me in some ways of the dreamscape.”

“Sure--if the dreamscape were totally empty!” Twilight replied.

Luna nodded: “Precisely. I wonder if this “waiting room” somehow intersects with the dreamscape?”

Twilight sighed and lay back down: “That would be nice. Maybe we could figure out how to get out of here and live on through ponies’ dreams.”

Luna raised an eyebrow: “Like Moondancer’s?”

Twilight blushed: “No! Well, OK, her’s too, I guess…”

She sat up: “Hey--I didn’t make that dream! Grey Thorn put me in it as a trap!”

Luna smiled indulgently: “I know how dreams are constructed, Twilight. The most compelling and immersive are drawn, for good or ill, from the dreamer’s deepest fears and desires--both, in your case.”

“Both?”

Luna nodded: “Yes. You clearly desire the companionship and comfort Moondancer might bring, and you fear the responsibilities piled on you over these last two years. Those two streams make for a very, shall we say, robust dream!”

Twilight blushed again: “I guess 'robust' is a pretty good word for it.”

She rolled back onto her side, facing Luna, and sighed: “But it doesn’t really matter much now, I suppose...”

“Well, I’ll let you and Luna hash out the intricacies of immortality among mortals on your own time. We have business to attend to,” Reaper said, appearing suddenly between the two alicorns.

Twilight startled and scrambled backwards: “I really wish you would stop just appearing like that!”

Luna turned to Reaper: “Clearly you were not destroyed. I am relieved to see that.”

Reaper nodded: “Not for lack of trying! Between Grey Thorn, his Void, and your sister, it’s a miracle I’m here at all!”

Twilight sat up: “So what did happen? Did Grey Thorn escape? Did Celestia break through to fight him?”

“No, and damn-near,” Reaper began. “Right as you two died I was able to trigger my time suppression field.”

He turned to Luna: “You saw it used briefly when I showed you the vision of Cloud Deck’s reaping.”

She nodded: “I recall.”

“At the moment of a pony’s death, I am given all authority over that instant in time and space,” Reaper continued. “I can freeze it, allowing myself total freedom of action for a few seconds.”

He sat down next to Twilight: “And in that few seconds, I safely removed your spirits, and reaped Grey Thorn.”

Luna’s eyebrows jumped: “You reaped him within the suspended time? What then became of the now-uncontrolled Void?”

Reaper shook his head: “Not quite. I saw that Grey Thorn was a moment away from being pulled into the Void, and realized an opportunity existed to kill two birds with one stone, as it were.”

“That’s Fluttershy’s least favorite expression!” Twilight interjected, dreamily.

Reaper chuckled: “OK, not really germane here, but thanks! Anyway, I released the suppression field, and jumped into the Void with Grey Thorn, reaping him at the same time.”

Luna raised an eyebrow: “You slew him from within the Void? I thought that thing was impenetrable--like the Pit of Tartarus!”

“His creation is a very good simulacrum of the Pit, to be sure,” Reaper replied, “but, powerful and bizarre though it is, it still exists within the bounds of Equestria. And as a result, when Grey Thorn died at its heart, I had momentary dominion there, too.”

“Why are we still here?” Twilight asked, drowsily. “Don’t you have a job to finish or something? I want to go back to dreaming…”

Luna looked down at Twilight and furrowed her brow disapprovingly.

Reaper grinned: “She’s OK, Luna. This place can be pretty disorienting--it’s kind of by-design, actually.”

He tapped his chin for a moment: “Where was I? Oh, right: reaping Grey Thorn! So as he died, I was able to strip him of his body and native power, and use that (plus a not-insubstantial amount of my own power) to seal off the Void. It’s now an utterly-black sphere somewhat bigger than a bowling ball.”

“I like bowling. I’ve only gone a few times...Rainbow Dash is really good…” Twilight mumbled.

Luna rolled her eyes: “So where is it now? What of Grey Thorn? I assume he is lost.”

“No, Reaper replied, “that was my final gift to him, though I doubt he appreciates it right now. You likely saw a gold-and-red flash a bit ago?”

Luna nodded: “And a sound reminiscent of distant thunder.”

“Right,” Reaper replied, “that was his essence passing through here on its way to Tartarus.”

“Ah. And the Void?”

Reaper chewed his lip for a moment: “I used my last bit of strength to extract myself before the Void was collapsed and sealed. It settled to the floor, then passed right on through the floor as though it wasn’t even there, leaving a perfect hole.”

Luna’s eyes opened wide: “Isn’t that dangerous?”

Reaper shrugged: “Probably, but for the moment, it’s well out-of-reach. That’s a problem for another day.”

He turned toward Twilight and nudged her with his hoof. She blinked wearily a few times and tried to sit up.

“I’m awake! I’m awake!” she protested. “I was just resting my eyes!”

Reaper smiled: “It’s fine, Princess--this place is actually designed to have a kind of narcotic effect; it takes some getting used to. But we have business to attend, and the sooner the better--Celestia’s expecting me back one way or another, very shortly!”

“So what are our fates to be, Harbinger? I am ready to depart this world, having given my full measure to protect it!” Luna said, sitting up straight, raising her chin.

Reaper smiled: “Well, see there’s the problem: I’d really rather not have to remove two beings, whom most realities would recognize as demi-gods, from their native realm.”

“And, not to put too fine a point on it,” he continued, “if I don’t fix this, your sister will line me up against a wall and unleash her full fury. I’d really rather not find out if I’m as indestructible as I think I am!”

Reaper stood and helped Twilight unsteadily to her hooves: “So here’s what’s about to happen: I’m going to return the two of you to your bodies--that’s the easy part!”

He faced Luna as she stood: “Easy for me, anyway. For a brief instant, as you reinhabit your bodies, you will be in terrible distress and pain. It will only last a moment before you black out, but still…”

He turned back to Twilight and furrowed his brow: “Actually, there’s almost nothing left of you to feel anything. You look like somepony dropped a boulder on you, then dragged it and you 200 feet. I guess I’ll reinsert your essence in the biggest piece of your torso.”

He looked back at Luna apologetically: “Your neck got twisted around, severing your spine. A cleaner death than Twilight’s to be sure, but it does mean you’re going to feel your reinsertion for a few moments before you lose consciousness.”

Twilight backed away, a look of panic in her eyes: “This sounds horrible! What will become of us then?!”

“I understand completely, Twilight,” Reaper replied soothingly, “but you won’t stay that way. I’ve served Entropy for millennia, now, and I’m about to cash in some credits. I will do whatever it takes to reverse the damage and restore your bodies, no matter the cost!”

He walked away a few paces and drew his sword: “Now, if this fails, you will simply end up back here, and I will then escort you on to whatever Fate has in store. Then I will return to Equestria and let Celestia do her worst.”

“However, I think this will work,” he continued. “But be aware when it does, you’re likely to feel as though you’ve just died and been born at the same time--it’s going to be very unpleasant!”

Luna looked and Twilight, then nodded solemnly: “We understand, and are prepared for whatever awaits us!”

Reaper smiled, then suddenly stepped forward and kissed each alicorn on the forehead.

He returned back to his previous position, and raised his glowing sword in front of him: “No matter what happens, it’s been an honor working with your Highnesses! Now let’s get out of here!”

The three ponies disappeared silently, and without a trace.

Prologue

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. — Dylan Thomas

A patch of air above a barren, wind-swept section of cold, northern heath shimmered for a moment as the outline of a lone figure resolved. A second later a light-brown pony with a scruffy, gray-streaked mane and tail stood where the shimmer had been, his black-trimmed, white cloak whipping in the wind.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked down at his forelegs, then back over his shoulder at his flanks, cloak and elegant, curved sword tied to his left hip. He furrowed his brow and gazed around the emptiness surrounding him, noting that he was hovering slightly off the ground. He shook his head and settled onto the frozen turf with a soft "crunch."

“So now what?”

Suddenly he tipped his head to one side as if listening to a far-off voice. He began to walk—unsteadily at first, glaring down at his hooves—in the direction of some undefined call or beacon or summons. A few minutes later he crested a low ridge and saw another pony lying badly injured among the cold, rain-slicked stones at the bottom of a gorge.

The cloaked pony slowly approached the injured one, and could tell she would not last much longer. He watched as the horn projecting from her pale-blue forehead began to glow a faint gold. She cried out in pain and died as her horn sputtered and went dark.

The cloaked figure looked down at the pony's body, noting the crude image of a flower on its flank. He closed his eyes, and a few seconds later a horn pushed out from his forehead. He bent down to touch the other's body with it, and a faint mist arose from the dead mare. The mist disappeared after a moment, and the cloaked pony again tipped his head to one side as if heeding a summons.

He gazed off into the distance, then closed his eyes, smiled grimly and nodded: “I understand, now—Death's lackey; I guess that's fitting. Well, I'd better go see what happens next...”

The cloaked now-unicorn faded from view just as a symbol began to take shape on his flank. The circling vultures descended toward the dead pony as the threatening, shadowy form dissolved away.

Scene of the Crime

Luna appeared with a “pop” in Dew Drop’s kitchen, finding Reaper already standing by the table. His horn glowed a deep, almost invisible violet, and the long, curved sword hanging off his right side slid free from its scabbard.

Luna furrowed her brow. “Is that really necessary? Surely neither of us is in any danger!”

“I don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with, here, Princess, and I like to have all the tools at my disposal. A pony who can move through dreams, and take another pony’s life without our being aware is clearly sporting some serious power!”

They moved toward the bedroom. Luna wrinkled her nose at the stale, sour smell.

“Yeah,” remarked Reaper, “she didn’t go peacefully, that’s for sure.” He sheathed his sword.

They stepped into the room and looked down at Dew Drop’s rigid form, eyes frozen open and clouded over. Luna shuddered and closed her eyes.

“I cannot sense any trace of a dream at the end--just deep darkness, the kind I only recall…” She tapered off and bit her lip. Reaper watched her closely.

Luna gave a short shudder, then continued: “You have been with me on the rare occasions that a pony dies in their sleep; I bear the memories of those dreams most keenly.”

“Unfortunately, that jibes with my sense of it, too. She died--or rather, was killed--beyond my ken. Pony murders are rare, but even then I’m aware of them at the last moment. That’s why I believe the killer came to her in her dreams: I avoid entering the dreamscape at almost all costs, so a crafty murderer could strike quickly from there in the hope of avoiding my detection.”

Luna’s horn glowed, and the towel Dew Drop had tossed earlier onto her dresser rose and moved through the air, settling on the floor behind the dead mare’s body, absorbing the pool of liquid spread beneath her flank.

“How, then, did you detect this one?” she queried.

“I was north of here, taking an old stallion to his final rest when I caught the jarring, unmistakable scent of strawberries.”

“Strawberries?”

“Yeah, and believe me, it wasn’t a local source--he had left boiling cabbage on the stove!” Reaper paused, and nodded at the body.

“Anyway...it must have been her final thought, escaping as she was blotted out. I caught its echo, and tracked it here. Took several hours.”

His horn glowed again, and the body rose stiffly from the floor, allowing Luna to wipe beneath it. He held it aloft as Luna pulled the green comforter from the bed, and shrouded Dew Drop in it. Reaper laid the body gently on the bed.

“Blotted out?” Luna said in alarm. “Is there nothing you can do for her?”

“Besides give her a decent burial? No. Her essence is gone--destroyed or absorbed or something beyond my ability to perceive."

Luna’s head dropped, and tears welled up in her eyes. “How horrible! Her dreams were once full of life and growth and beauty! Who could do such an appalling thing?”

“That’s a very good question, one I’ve been asking myself for the last hour, or so. And it’s spawned a few unpleasant companions.”

“What do you mean?”

Reaper walked back to the kitchen and set down at the table. “I’ve been mulling over some unusual occurrences that took place during your, um, absence.”

Luna walked slowly to the sink, gazing out the window.

“What was ‘unusual’ about them?”

“I can’t really engage with dreams, not like you, but I can catch echoes of memories, akin to dreams, as a pony dies.”

Luna nodded.

“And there have been a few times where I encountered memories of other ponies, clearly from the distant past--loved ones, close friends, that sort of thing.”

Reaper shifted uncomfortably and picked up the mail, glancing at it distractedly.

“And…?” Luna prompted.

“From time to time I would notice that I didn’t know who some of these remembered ponies were. Now I’m not omniscient, but as you pointed out, once a pony hits the end of their life, I’m there to chaperon them onward. As a result, if a pony dies of old age, I certainly would have been present for the last moments of any pony from their distant past--say a grandparent, or something.”

Luna nodded again: “That stands to reason.”

Reaper dropped the mail and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, it does. So what became of these phantom-memory ponies? Were they--as I long assumed--just false memories, created from some end-of-life dementia? Many of these old ponies’ minds aren’t really all there at the end.”

Now Luna shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably: “I know; I see their dreams.”

“Yeah, so you understand the problem. Maybe when--let’s call him ‘Bucky’--is in the final stages of shuffling off his mortal coil, he recalls a long-lost friend named ‘Old Paint.’ But I never knew “Old Paint” back when she would have died some thirty-odd years earlier. So I chalk it up to fragmented memories mixed with imagination mixed with dementia. But what if ‘Old Paint’ had been real?”

Reaper looked up sharply from the table and fixed his gaze on Luna.

“But you--you see dreams constructed of real memories. You wouldn’t be confused by fantasy or imaginary friends: you could call up true dreams made of true recollections.”

“That is so. It is very difficult to deceive me, either with intent or unconsciously.”

“Right. But you were gone for a thousand years, and I was never able to check my hunches against sound dreams and memories. I think this has been going on for centuries!”

Luna’s nostrils flared as she drew in a sharp breath.

“But surely somepony would have noticed this at some point! Look at poor Dew Drop: her death would have been soon noted even without our intervention.” She waved a hoof at the scattered mail.

“Sure--but she was in the prime of her life. I’m talking about old ponies at the ends of theirs. Their deaths aren’t suspicious--they’re supposed to die! But what if, at the end, this pony, creature, monster, what-have-you, swoops in and snuffs them out, just like Dew Drop? There’s a strong likelihood I won’t know that it happens, and on the rare chance I come across a memory of them, years later, in another old pony, what am I to make of it?”

“Why? Why would somepony do this?”

Reaper pushed back from the table and stood up: “Oh, that’s just one of several questions that now present themselves! Let’s give poor Dew Drop a proper burial and head back to Canterlot before we dig any further into this.”

“Should we not tell somepony?”

Reaper sighed: “Yeah, you’ll need to let the village Constable know before we leave.”

“Me?” said Luna quizzically.

Reaper nodded ruefully: “Remember: I tend to freak-out the living…”

The Pit

Luna and Twilight rematerialized again in the ruins of Luna’s dreamscape castle, finding Reaper already there, pacing under the banner, muttering.

Luna cocked her head sideways: “What is it, Reaper? What did you see?”

Reaper furrowed his brow and turned toward the Princesses, but did not look at them; rather he gazed past them.

Twilight and Luna looked at each other, then back at Reaper, who had turned away, again.

“I saw the shadows, too,” Twilight said, encouragingly, “with the different layers. Some almost seemed to move by themselves!”

Reaper stopped: “Yes. It looked that way. Or were they being tugged as though on puppet strings?”

Luna cleared her throat: “I, too, saw darkness beyond dark, as when we witnessed Sea Foam’s death. You said you had wanted to “see inside the cave”--did you?”

Reaper chewed his lip: “Yes.”

Twilight shifted nervously and glanced at Luna, who shrugged. Twilight prompted: “And…?”

“And what?” replied Reaper, “Oh--the shadow, the cave, the dark collapsing around Zephyr’s face. Yes.”

He turned suddenly to face his companions: “Come with me.”

The scene spun and blurred, and for a moment they stood in the emptiness of Reaper’s “waiting room,” before being whisked away to a vast courtyard, enclosed by a pair of mighty gates. A three-headed dog lay at the gates, dozing lightly.

Luna and Twilight both looked around, confused.

“Why have you brought us to Tartarus, Reaper?” Luna asked.

“Right,” he replied, striding out across the courtyard, veering away from the high platform typically used to house important prisoners, “you’ve both been here, but only here: the area of the gates and courtyard.”

Luna and Twilight trotted briskly in order to catch up with Reaper as he headed underneath a dark archway, and down a broad, dark stairway, as wide as a highway.

Twilight shuddered violently as she passed under the archway, and Luna’s horn, which she had lit in order to see through the gloom, faded and flickered.

Reaper didn’t look back, but intensified the glow from his own horn to compensate: “Yeah, you two will find you’re not going to generate much magic down here. You’re entering the real Tartarus, now!”

Luna and Twilight shot a look of concern at each other, and Luna spoke, with rising alarm: “Why in the name of my sister are we entering Tartarus? Have we not already encountered enough darkness?”

Reaper chuckled: “I guarantee you, your big sis and her name have nothing to do with this place!”

He stopped at a fork in the stairway: “Let’s see,” he mused, “gotta be careful not to take the kid down too deep, or she might really lose it…”

Twilight bristled and took a deep breath to reply, but Reaper interrupted: “Believe me, Twilight, there are places down in the deepest levels of this place where even I get a bit wobbly!”

He turned to the right-hand stairway, which led down in a shallow arc.

“This should do fine. We can head down to what I call the “Observation Deck.” From there I’m fairly sure I can show you why we’re here.”

The three ponies walked briskly in silence for several minutes--even their hoof-falls on the obsidian steps seemed muffled, as though they were walking on thick grass.

Suddenly the stairs ended, and the companions stepped through a broad doorway and out onto a ledge, wide enough for the three of them, though not much more.

The air about them was stuffy and oppressive, and even Reaper’s horn cast very little light.

“So what is this place?” Twilight asked, squinting in the inky blackness, trying to discern the shape of the space in which they stood.

“This is the high edge of the Pit of Tartarus,” Reaper explained. “This is where spirits, demons, ghouls, whatever, go to be banished and swallowed up until Entropy itself ends the Cosmos.

“Why have you brought us here, Reaper?” Luna pressed. “There is naught to see!”

Reaper smiled faintly: “That’s a very good way of putting it!”

Again, Luna and Twilight, looked at each other in confusion.

Reaper turned away, stepped to the very edge of the precipice, and drew his sword. It glowed a bright purplish blue, now, far brighter and more visible than they had seen before.

Reaper beckoned to the two alicorns to step up to the edge with him: “C’mon ladies--you can’t cast much light, but every little bit helps!” His own horn burst forth with sudden radiance, and Luna and Twilight added what they could.

Shadows sprang up all about them, and they looked down into the Pit. Vertigo nearly overcame Twilight, and Reaper had to steady her with his hoof on her shoulder.

“I-I don’t understand what I’m seeing,” she stammered, “it’s like I can’t focus, like there is literally nothing down there--no light, no space, no anything!”

Luna peered down as well, grunting as she strained to produce enough light to pierce even a little way down. It had no effect.

“I, too, am baffled,” she admitted. “I have experienced, yea even created the blackest of blacks, but even I cannot penetrate this gloom!”

“Now try a little parlor trick,” he prompted, “unleash your mightiest energy bolts down there, as though you were delivering a killing blow.”

The two Princesses fired the highest-intensity bursts they could manage. To their clouded perception, the beams only appeared to travel a few feet beyond their horns.

“What is that stuff?” Twilight whispered, laying down her ears.

“Luna had it right before,” Reaper replied, “it’s “naught,” nothing, pure absence. A void of infinite negation. It is the Pit of Tartarus, and all who are cast into it, may as well have never existed.”

He turned back to the alicorns: “Now, my honored guests, which of you can answer your own questions? Why are we here? Why am I showing you this?”

Luna furrowed her brow and answered tentatively, “Because this is what you saw at the end of Zephyr’s nightmare. This is the darkness that has defied our attempts to see through, or even properly see at all!”

Twilight’s eyebrows jumped: “So we were seeing the Pit of Tartarus, pulled up into ponies’ dreams?!”

Reaper smiled: “Not possible--literally! The Pit is this place. You could no more remove a piece or transport a tendril or whatever, than you could pull the moon down and float it in Celestia’s royal duck pond! It is one of the few truly fixed locations in all the Cosmos.”

Twilight frowned: “Well, then…”

Reaper chuckled: “You were on the right track, though. No, it can’t be the Pit itself, but somepony, creature, demon, whatever, has created a very accurate simulacrum of the Pit--a Void, if you will, that they can create or summon.”

“Why would somepony create such a thing?” Luna wondered, as she leaned out over the Pit, and prepared to take flight in an attempt to get a better view.

“Woah!” Reaper cried in alarm, cutting in front of her, barring her from becoming airborne.

“That would be the last flight you ever took, Princess!” he said, pressing his body against Luna’s reaching up to push her right wing back down. She looked puzzled.

“Physics, the way you understand it, doesn’t really operate out over that area.” Reaper explained. “You would simply fall like a statue, and disappear without a trace. It would look like you were flying, but you would sink like a stone without so much as a struggle!”

Luna laid her ears down and backed away two paces: “Thank you for stopping me, then Reaper--that would have been awful!”

He nodded: “That’s an understatement!” He turned back toward the Pit.

“The interesting thing is,” he continued, “even if you take the other stairways we passed earlier, and descend to the lower levels, it roughly looks like this ledge. It always appears as though you’re standing along the top rim.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow: “What’s the point of having more levels, then?”

“They have broader ledge areas which are used to house long-term, very dangerous beasts and creatures, that need to be restrained, if not destroyed,” Reaper replied.

He stepped back toward the edge and kicked a small stone off into the impenetrable gloom.

“Honestly,” he concluded, “I don’t know why they don’t just pitch all the ones at the bottom level into the Pit. They’re never leaving, anyway.”

Luna shuddered: “How dreadful! Wouldn’t death be preferable in such a case?”

Reaper shrugged: “Maybe. Perhaps that’s the point: Fate wants them punished, and being stuck at the bottom of this place, next to the Pit, is even worse than oblivion, I presume.”

He turned away and began to walk back toward the archway.

“I have no real interest in finding out in any event; I’ve never been to the bottom, and I don’t plan on making the trip anytime soon…”

Luna joined Reaper and passed under the entryway, then stopped abruptly. She looked back over her shoulder and squinted into the darkness: “Where is Twilight?”

Reaper’s head snapped around, and he dashed back into the chamber, horn blazing: “Shit!”

Twilight was hovering just beyond the lip of the ledge, mere inches from the Pit itself.

Reaper swung his blade in a wide arc, and a sheet of violet-white flame sprang up directly in Twilight’s face. She reared back, startled, and fell sprawling on the ground. Reaper spun restraining bands of energy from his horn, pinning her wings.

He sat down heavily next to Twilight as Luna ran back into the chamber.

“What were you thinking, Twilight?!” Luna demanded, in a panicked tone.

Twilight blinked and furrowed her brow: “I-I wasn’t thinking. I just couldn’t resist the pull. It seemed so--I don’t know--eternal. Like all the knowledge of everything forever is right there--you just have to reach out and touch it!”

Reaper nodded grimly: “And it likely is there, for all the good it would do you!”

He helped Twilight to her hooves, and turned to Luna, who was glaring with near-parental anger at Twilight: “Don’t be too hard on her, Princess. You and I have centuries (or more) of experience with the “Awesome” and the “Cosmic” and the “Eternal.” It can be a bit overwhelming to a rookie.”

Once again he turned back to the archway, this time following close behind Twilight.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s get out of here.”

Treasure Trove

Twilight stood transfixed, staring at row after row of books, shelf upon shelf of scrolls, sheaf after sheaf of parchment, all sizes and colors, all of them centuries and millennia old, from all across Equestria and countless other worlds and realities.

She walked slowly between the 30-foot-tall stacks, barely breathing, reaching out toward some of them, but drawing back, not daring to touch anything.

“Where did he get all this stuff?!” she whispered, turning in circles as she passed between rows of magical and scientific instruments, jars of indescribable objects and specimens, glass-topped drawers of stones and gems.

She passed out through the maze of racks and shelves, emerging into a sunken central area, lined with benches and tables and low stools. Multiple tomes and scrolls were spread out across the tables, lit by hovering magical orbs.

Twilight scanned the contents of the books and scrolls, barely comprehending anything she was seeing. Words and glyphs shimmered from pages, images moved and distorted as she walked past, alien sounds rose from unknown places if she stopped and looked at certain pages. Her head hurt.

Twilight blinked, shook her head, and left the sunken study area, returning to the relative sanity of the book shelves. She stepped up to a low bookstand and examined the open volume on it. Two similarly-bound books rested on an adjacent table, topped by chunk of uncut diamond.

She peered at the words, and realized this was one of Starswirl’s lost works she had seen referenced elsewhere: “Concerning Pony Longevity, Vol. 3.”

“Wow!” she said, “How many of his “lost” works are down here?”

She started leafing through the volume before her:

“...and further studies lead me to believe that death can, indeed, be forestalled, if not avoided altogether, by use of the runes of Trilfia and Shoiman’s glyphs. But the requirement of a virgin’s blood in order to seal the wards will likely lead me to reject this solution long-term, as I would be unwilling to procure that particular ingredient indefinitely. In addition, I fear the dark magic that tends to accumulate from its prolonged use [see 8 red, esp. G.T. notes].”

“Oh, dear Celestia!” she gasped, “Reaper was right! Starswirl was studying dark magic in an attempt to head off death!” She squinted at the end note: “And Grey Thorn was right there with him, filling in his side notes!”

She leaned back and tapped her chin thoughtfully: “So we know his number-color-coded notebook scheme...where are the books? They must be down here, too!”

Twilight stood and turned back toward the shelves, skirting a pile of unbound, illuminated parchment, heading between two racks of gilt-edged scrolls, toward a long, three-tiered wall-mounted shelf, stacked from end to end with slender red, blue, green and yellow notebooks.

“Ha!” she cried triumphantly, immediately wincing in pain. “Ow! Try to contain your enthusiasm, Twilight--you haven’t found anything, yet!”

She scanned the numbers on the shelves and their attendant volumes, familiarizing herself with the scheme, finally picking out the red-bound number 8 volume she had just seen referenced.

She was about to pull the book from the shelf, when she looked to the left, and realized that there were several thicker, dark brown volumes slotted in just ahead of the “Volume 1” collection.

Twilight absently removed the red notebook and dropped it in her saddlebag as she moved toward the leather-bound books at the far end of the shelf: “What have we here?”

They were simply marked “Journal” 1, 2 and 3, and were clearly older than any of the colored sets to their right. Twilight slid journal 3 out, and opened it, looking for references to Grey Thorn or “G.T.”

She found “G.T.” on the next-to-last page, and began leafing backwards through the text, looking for earlier and earlier references.
Twilight wandered absentmindedly back toward the sunken study area, poring over pages, muttering as she went: “G.T. resolved proper occultation angles...cautioned G.T. again Re: dark magic implications of Highbrier spell of making...G.T. again hesitant to consult with R.A. on lunar positioning inaccuracies in official tables…”

She sat down at the only uncluttered workbench, and spread out the three weathered books. She closed book 3, and swapped it for book 2.

“Where do we first meet you, G.T.?” she mused, flipping backwards through the journal.

“No, no, no…” she repeated as she worked back through journal 2. “How long were you with Starswirl, anyway?”

Then she stopped: “Wait! “Grey Thorn” is mixed here with “G.T.” for the first time!”

She flipped back and forth between a half-dozen pages, comparing Starswirl’s notes.

“Grey Thorn proving adept at gathering some of the rarer herbs from Gracie’s Glen. Will consult with Apoth. Re: efficacy of samples. G.T. now allowed to make entries in botanical record book [c.f.]”

“There you are, you elusive phantom!” Twilight said, triumphantly. “But where did you come from? I really wish I had the Archivist here! She could probably date these journals in a heartbeat!”

Twilight continued to skim quickly back through book 2, then into book 1.

“Knowing my luck, he didn’t note anything other than magical-type notes in these things!” she remarked, flipping back another pair of pages, approaching the book’s halfway point.

Then something caught Twilight’s eye: “Cutie mark? Did it say “cutie mark?””

She slowly worked through three pages, reading closely.

Her eyebrows jumped: “I was right!”

“Grey Thorn’s cutie mark came in this morning. Since he has very limited contact with other foals, I had to explain to him why this is so interesting. A twist of brier is certainly in keeping with his bloodline (at least as far I as know of it). Rumors of Pale Rose’s indiscretion(s?) are old news. Somehow fitting that his mark fits his nickname as well. I doubt he’ll ever be formally claimed by the Highbriers, so his C.M. is mostly academic at this point.”

Twilight puzzled for a minute: “How did Starswirl know Pale Rose was the mother? What nickname?”

She continued skimming further back in the journal, until she had nearly reached the beginning, and was despairing of finding Starswirl’s first reference to Grey Thorn.

Then, to her relief, she read the lines she had spent an hour searching for:

“Brought the colt back to my study after burying his mother. Didn’t want to leave the body in the open; might possibly cause an incident. Pale Rose found on the banks of the S.S. River, in contested Greensward lands, with an obvious bastard foal--we don’t need that headache right now.”

“Not quite sure what to do with the little thing. I’ve informed Celestia that I found an orphan (true enough) during my search for herbs and roots (mostly true), and that he’s one of those displaced by the frontier battles (the real truth not a good idea here). Told her I’d act as his ward (also true). Thought long about his name. He’s Highbrier, so ‘thorn’ works, and using his color seems simple enough. I’m not very creative, I guess! Grey Thorn will be my apprentice. I’ll need one soon enough, I suppose…”

Twilight rocked back and let out a huge sigh: “Finally! We can bring some of these threads together!”

A wave pain suddenly washed over her, as her sense of relief gave way to fatigue: “Oh, my. Now I need to start digging into all those numbered color-coded notebooks--see if I can figure out when Grey Thorn started taking over for Starswirl. See who’s really responsible for that Void.”

“Then I get to find another map, and figure my way out of here,” she said weakly, “with a torn-up wing and half a library’s-worth of books in-tow. And that's assuming I don’t hit any more magic dampening fields!”

Twilight looked around, and noticed a low couch secreted away behind a large stack of folios. She limped over, with several books hovering behind her, and sat down heavily.

She opened one of her saddlebags and dropped in the three journals, along with a pair of colored notebooks. She then removed a small flask, and a pouch.

“I just need to rest for a minute,” she said, opening the pouch and taking out a smashed muffin. “This pain has really taken its toll!”

She opened the third journal again, and began browsing toward its end, seeking some sort of transition to the colored notebooks, or clues to other volumes in the racks and shelves.

She sipped at the cider in the flask, and felt its warmth ease her pain. The words on the page began to swim. She slumped sideways and fell into a light, uneasy slumber.

"Then Let Us Do the Hard Things Now!"

Celestia stood just inside the entrance to the chamber, nervously counting the seconds, listening to bits of rock fall from the ceiling, breathing in the scent of heated stone through flared nostrils, staring intently at Reaper’s still, shadowy form.

Suddenly, Luna’s body heaved violently, and a strangled cry escaped its throat. Celestia began to dash across the floor, then stopped in horror as Twilight’s carcass shuddered and emitted a sort of wet, squelching noise. A fresh spurt of blood sprayed across Celestia’s hooves.

She cried out and jumped back, just as Reaper reformed between the two bodies, and stood up, drawing his sword.

“Get back, Celestia!” he shouted, “and make damn sure no ponies set hoof in here! I don’t think they would live to regret it, and I’m going to be busy enough as it is!”

He leaned forward and touched each body with a hoof, then rose to his full height, stood on his hind legs and levitated his sword above his head.

Reaper’s eyes glowed with a crimson fire as he slowly rose from the floor, wreathed in a swirling white mist. His sword burned with a flickering gold flame as he spread his forelegs wide, threw his head back, arched his back to the breaking point, and cried out in agony.

Celestia suddenly felt her own power being rapidly drained from her, against her will, and she staggered back through the entryway, peering around the corner with just one eye, trembling with fear and anticipation.

“Yes!” she heard Reaper shout, “I understand! So be it!”

The chamber was bathed in a brilliant, deep violet light for an instant as beams of crimson and gold and silver shot out from Reaper’s body, rending his cloak, piercing Luna and Twilight’s bodies.

Celestia looked on in horrified fascination as all the pieces of Twilight’s shredded corpse came flying back together as though drawn by invisible threads, and Luna’s crushed hips and legs straightened and expanded back to their normal shape, as her head and neck realigned.

Reaper rose several more feet in the air as the chamber became bitter cold and the fire died out of his eyes. His head slumped forward, and he was thrown suddenly to the floor like a discarded puppet, as a shock wave rippled through the chamber. He bounced and rolled awkwardly to the side, and lay there, motionless.

Celestia stood in the entryway, cold fog flowing past her hooves, chewing her lip, unsure as to what she should do. Suddenly she heard a gasp and a cry, and two ponies coughing and sobbing weakly.

She rushed into the chamber and knelt next to Luna: “Sister! Are you alive? Can you hear me?”

Luna tried to open her eyes, but was overcome with a wave of nausea, causing her to close them even tighter.

“Ohhh!” she moaned, “Sister, I-I feel awful! Help me! Help me...sit up!”

Celestia reached down to help lift her sister up, when Luna was wracked by a violent spasm. She sobbed as her bladder emptied involuntarily, spraying the floor behind her hindquarters.

“I-I am so sorry, sister!” Luna wept, “I cannot control anything!”

Celestia gently laid Luna back down: “It’s fine--I don’t care about any of that right now! I’m just glad you’re alive!”

“How-how is Twilight?” Luna gasped, trying again to open her eyes.

Celestia looked to her left, over Luna’s partially outstretched wing: “She’s breathing, but her eyes are closed. Let me check on her!”

Celestia stood and stepped gingerly over Luna and her spreading puddle, also taking care not to tread in the blood smeared and pooled around Twilight.

She bent down and touched Twilight on the shoulder: “Twilight! Are you awake? Can you move!”

“Oh, Celestia,” she moaned, “don’t make me move! If I move I’ll...I’ll…”

Twilight’s abdomen suddenly heaved, and she vomited violently and repeatedly, until there was nothing left but bile.

She began weeping and coughing: “Oh, please! Wa-wa-water!”

Celestia stood and turned back the the entryway, where the ponies who had accompanied her stood, trembling.

“Quickly!” she shouted, “One of you bring some water for the Princesses!”

The unicorn guard turned and dashed away.

Celestia knelt between the two stricken alicorns, looking between them with concern. Luna tried to speak, but retched instead, and gave up the attempt. Twilight’s hiccoughs and sobs lessened as exhaustion overtook her.

Celestia suddenly realized that somepony was missing, and she stood, scanning the room for Reaper. She saw his body, shrouded in mist, lying a few yards away, wisps of vapor rising from his frost-covered hide. She walked toward him, diverting slightly to bend down for his discarded sword.

“Don’t touch that!”

Celestia stopped and pricked her ears up: “What?”

“I said, don’t touch my sword,” Reaper croaked weakly. “Don’t even use your magic on it.”

Celestia furrowed her brow: “Why not?”

Reaper propped himself up on his right foreleg: “I have no idea what might happen if a being with your power touched Death’s Token right now, and I’d rather not find out the hard way. Nopony here should touch it.”

Celestia nodded, and stood next to Reaper, looking down on his singed mane, and the tatters of fabric clinging to his back.

The unicorn guard returned, bearing a pail of water, and tentatively stepped into the chamber: “Princess Celestia? I brought water like you asked!”

She turned back toward the entryway, and beckoned the guard to come in further: “Please! Take the water to Princesses!”

She looked back over her shoulder at Reaper: “Do you need help? Can you stand?”

He sighed heavily and slumped forward: “Yes. I can stand. I’d rather not, mind you…”

He struggled wearily to his hooves, and Celestia returned to her sister and Twilight, who were now sitting together, leaning against each other as they took turns slaking their thirst.

Reaper sheathed his sword and staggered over to the three alicorns: “This place is freezing and smells like Luna’s piss! Let’s get them into the study, and we can sit down there…”

Celestia supported Luna, as Reaper helped Twilight up, and all four shuffled through the entryway, back into the adjoining room.

The room was bare save for a slightly-melted workbench, still glowing a dull red from trapped heat. The floors and walls were covered in scorch marks, the air smelled of burnt paper, and the surface of barrier wall was pocked with deep, melted holes and fissures, as though it had been made of ice. Even the room’s ceiling had started to drip like hot wax.

“So much for sitting down,” Reaper observed dryly. “You really did a number on this room, didn’t you Celestia?”

“I applied every bit of my power to that accursed wall!” she replied curtly. “I didn’t give a damn what happened to this den of evil and dark wizardry!”

Twilight looked around, crestfallen: “Oh, Princess! There was so much here! So much to find and learn! So many treasures that had been lost for centuries!” She sat down and began to weep softly.

Reaper sat down next to her and tried to console her: “And so much of it was twisted and poisoned. Between the bits we found above, and the reading you did here, I think we know more than enough!”

Twilight hiccoughed and sniffled, trying to regain her composure. She lifted her head up suddenly: “Reading I did here! Can somepony come with me for a minute? I’m too weak to carry anything right now!”

She stood up and tottered unsteadily back toward the chamber. Celestia followed: “What is it, Twilight?”

“My saddle bag may still be behind the mirror in that side alcove,” she explained as the entered the dark, cavernous space.

They walked over to the alcove and found the mirror intact, with Twilight’s bag wedged beneath its frame. Celestia leaned down and slipped her horn through the bag’s strap, lifting it up, and letting it slide around her neck.

“Thank you so much, Princess!,” Twilight said. “At least everything isn’t a total loss! This has most of my notes from the last several days, and a few salvaged pages and whatnot!”

Twilight looked over her shoulder as she entered the doorway, and noted the rock covering the depression holding the other books was still undisturbed. She said nothing.

They reentered the now empty and blasted study room, and saw Reaper helping Luna out the exit, into the crude connecting room beyond.

Celestia illuminated her horn, and guided Twilight after them, and all four worked their way back out the long tunnel to the area beneath the secret opening to the castle wall above.

Reaper looked up, and saw the hole was now big enough for three ponies to pass though, and that scaffolding designed for earth ponies to negotiate had been lowered through and setup below.

“Looks like you’ve been doing some work!” Reaper noted.

Celestia nodded as they approached the base of the scaffold: “Luna’s note warned me of the wards and anti-magic fields. That’s why I brought a pair of my best earth pony construction and repair crew along--they’re unaffected by that kind of thing. They had this hole opened and scaffolded in record time!”

The two ponies in question stood on either side of the scaffold, blushing as Celestia bowed to each of them in turn.

Luna sagged against Reaper, who wobbled a bit. She turned to Celestia: “Sister, I feel it unlikely that I can either fly or levitate or teleport at this point…”

Celestia smiled and pointed her horn at Luna. She was wrapped in a pale, white glow, and floated up through the hole above, where the pair of unicorn guards reached out and helped her to the ground.

“Your turn, Twilight!” Celestia said, repeating the process for her protégé. She turned to Reaper.

“I assume you can just blink out and reappear above, now that the wards are gone, yes?”

Reaper took a deep, shuddering breath, and smiled wanly: “Um, that last maneuver back there took a lot out of me. I’d appreciate a lift, too, if you don’t mind!”

Celestia raised an eyebrow, but wrapped him in a bubble of magic as well: “Alright, just don’t get used to this kind of thing!”

Celestia, Luna, Twilight and Reaper made their way slowly back to the castle’s main entrance, flanked by elements of both the Royal and Night Guards. The sun was just dipping below the horizon as they crossed the final courtyard in front of Celestia’s great hall and private chambers.

“I’ve sent guards ahead to prepare rooms in my quarters for you both,” Celestia said, nodding toward Luna and Twilight. “The Royal Surgeon and I would feel better if I could have you nearby tonight. I’m sure you’ll both sleep...um…”

“Like the dead?” Reaper offered, helpfully.

Celestia glared, but Twilight chuckled weakly, and Luna rolled her eyes.

The four entered the Celestia’s chambers, and Twilight and Luna collapsed at once onto cushions, while Reaper wearily sank onto a low couch, setting his sword beneath it.

Servants scurried in immediately, bearing basins of warm, scented water and towels, which they used to clean Twilight and Luna.

“The doctor didn’t want you immersing yourselves in the bath until she has a chance to examine you,” Celestia said, apologetically, “so I’m afraid this’ll have to do until tomorrow.”

Both Princesses lay back, unabashedly, and let the bath attendants scrub them down. Reaper watched with interest, lounging on his sofa, surreptitiously drinking cider from a large chalice.

He shifted his legs slightly, as though uncomfortable, and cleared his throat: “I assume you put guards on that hole, Celestia? Who knows what else is down there. It’s going to need a thorough exploration!”

Celestia nodded, taking a slice of cheese from a platter on a nearby table: “There’s a mixed company of Royal and Night’s Guard on watch, and I’ve already alerted the Royal Archivist. She’s going to coordinate with the Captain of the Guard tomorrow.”

Twilight looked out from beneath a steaming-hot towel: “I’d like to be involved in that!”

Celestia smiled: “I’m not surprised, and you’ve probably earned that right, but we’ll have to let the Archivist have her say!”

Luna lay on her back as two bath attendants bathed and rubbed-down her flanks and loins. She tipped her head forward slightly, spread her legs to get her left leg out of her line-of-sight, and looked at Reaper.

“What is your intent, Harbinger?” she asked, taking a bite of apple, “I assume you are still weary and may also require a bit of recharging, yes?”

Reaper chewed his lip absentmindedly as he looked back at Luna, taking in her wet, sprawling form and spread legs.

He shook his head: “What? Oh--recharging. Yes. I wouldn’t mind just resting here for a bit, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Celestia glanced over and waved a hoof dismissively: “Not at all! You are welcome to stay for as long as you need to…”

She furrowed her brow and tipped her head sideways: “...recharge.”

Reaper sat up and cleared his throat again: “Excuse me for a moment.”

He walked briskly across the chamber floor, as Celestia watched him closely. He passed unnoticed through a group of servant ponies and entered a side door.

A few moments later, Luna, Celestia and Twilight all froze and cocked an ear toward the far side of the room, as they heard the distinctive sound of a heavy urine stream hitting the bottom of a toilet.

Reaper exited the water closet and passed back through the servants and guards, back to the three alicorns, who were all staring silently at him.

Twilight spoke first: “I thought drinking liquid had no effect on you. I thought it just sort of disappeared or something.”

Reaper swallowed and nodded.

Luna raised an eyebrow: “That did not sound like liquid merely “disappearing!””

Reaper turned to sit back down on the couch, when Twilight sat bolt upright and pointed at his flank: “What is that?!”

All four ponies looked down at Reaper’s right flank, which now bore a 馬 symbol.

“So, yeah...about that,” Reaper began gamely, “I don’t know what it is, all I know is it isn’t the symbol for ‘death’ I’ve borne for millennia.”

Luna furrowed her brow: “But what does that mean? Why did it change?”

Reaper closed his eyes and took a deep breath: “What it means is, at the moment I began to summon your bodies’ various components back to life, Fate or Entropy or something reached out and asked if I was truly willing to pay any price.”

He stood, picked up a chilled tray, and held it in front of his muzzle; it fogged with condensation.

“I said yes.”

He sat back down and looked at their stunned faces.

“As a result, to paraphrase Celestia, we have an ‘us’ problem,” he said, draining the chalice.

“There is no more death in Equestria.”