Death was a concept foreign to Equestria, and as I learned it was too foreign. The death of a single pony was met with outcry, and I’ve seen even doctors faint from the sight of blood. They were events so sad that I could remember every one of them vividly in my mind, despite how rare it actually occurred. Every funeral, every sickness, it was so foreign that it now seems strange to here how common it is. That’s the thing though, even with such similarities, this isn’t Equestria.

This is a place where death isn’t feared, but welcomed. His hooves wrap around you and carry you to the farplane where your soul would rest in peace. All of that started with a war one thousand years ago, caused by two regal sisters with the power to bend the very universe to their whim. That was the event that showed death was not to be feared, but no one knows how it started. No one but me, and a history that was long abandoned.

The connection wasn’t immediate; ponies didn’t suddenly except death as soon as the war started. That was merely the finishing touch, not the start. I’m the only one who remembers what really started the war, as I’m the only one around who ever saw what happened. The fall of another Canterlot, the one that I had grown up in my entire life, was when death truly became accepted. I was right there in the middle of everything, holding my mother’s body…

… watching the pony I loved most die before my very eyes.

————

Clouds of smoke rose from the burning city of Canterlot, the streets all but abandoned. Houses were empty, those inside them having escaped the battle while they could or met their end trying. It was the first time anyone had seen the sky turn red, thunder clouds blocking the sun's rays, but the sun wasn’t the cause of the sky’s coloring. Never in Equestria had such a horrible moment ever been created, and by the very heroes who once protected it.

“Mama?” A young unicorn colt called to the mare who was leaning over him. He could hear her breathing, but the many arrows sticking out of her back told him it wouldn’t be for long. “Wh-what is this mama? What is this red stuff staining-“

“It… it’s going to be okay... Swift,” The colt’s mother told him, though they both knew it was a terrible attempt to make things better. “Keep moving… while my body isn’t… limp. I won’t let them… hit… you.”

“I-I can’t, don’t you understand?” Swift told his mother, the very idea horrifying him. “I can help you, and I’m not gonna… gonna,” The word he was looking for was on the tip of his tongue, but it felt impossible to say. “I just need to get you some help, than everything will be fine and… and than we can live w-with Twilight as a family.”

“Swift Spell... please look at my eyes,” The colt did as asked, meeting the eyes of a mare beyond repair. Someone who could no long walk, and eyes that could barely see. Yet even than Swift’s mother stroked his mane, vision to fuzzy to tell the difference between his body and the marble ground. “You will… have a family… despite how much I’ve gone… away. Twilight isn’t going to win, and so many others…” She suddenly found herself unable to carry her own body, her organs starting to shut down on her. “Remember… how I became her… apprentice?”

“It was that time spell, but you told me to never touch it.”

Swift watched as her mother desperately tried to pull herself up, even just a little bit. None of her hooves could move, and as Swift could tell from his place buried under her body, her chest and stomach were starting to expand slower and slower. With nothing else to resort to, his mother resort to magic, bringing out a spell that she had been hiding with her. It was the spell that Swift Spell had just mentioned.

“She’ll kill you… like me,” His mother said, and despite the constant shaking of her sons head and his frantic mumbling, she continued. “All I can do… is keep you safe… from ever witnessing… my funeral. Please Swift… go and-“

Her body suddenly lurched, the scroll falling to the ground beside them as such a motion suddenly cause her and her son to come in contact with each others lips. Yet what Swift was focus on was what he saw on the back of his mother's neck, and as her head fell to his left side, he found himself tearing up. Right in the middle of his mother’s neck was an arrow, easily an inch deep into her body. Suddenly, that word that was impossible to speak became clear to him: dead.

“No… no… no no no no no no no!” Swift repeated to say that word as the scroll suddenly lit up. A vortex formed above Swift as he did his best to cling to his mother, the sight of guards rushing down the steps. “Please don’t leave, please don’t leave. Everything is going to be okay.”

Yet no matter how many times he said it, her eyes didn’t move. Breathing had stopped, her face in horrific shock as she studied the ground attentively. As the vortex grew, the ground around Swift shook, making him think that her eyes or hooves were moving. This only strengthened his denial as his body started to get pulled up, holding onto his mother’s hoof as if he was right above a pit of lava. He looked to the guards running down towards him, and that was enough of a distraction to make his grip dissipate. The scroll flying up with him, he was pulled into the vortex above, watching as his mother lied on the ground dead. Before it closed, he only had time to scream for her.

“Mom!”

————

Sweetie Belle shuttered, fear ran down her body’s metallic spines as she tried desperately to sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about Rarity and how worried she must be, or the creatures that walked in the darkness surrounding them. Everytime she felt the faintest hint of sleep the face of the monster that tore her body apart appeared, immediately jolting her from her rest. It was like this every night till Psyche came back from her daily responsibilities, holding the filly close to her body for comfort. Despite the rough introduction between the two, or the one that the older mare had seen, things have since calmed down a bit.

Yet that didn’t lessen the pain the Psyche felt as she remember how she acted, taking over the body of Arthis and yelling angrily at her dear friend Luminous. It was the first time the two of the had met in any shape or form, at least as paradoxes. In another time, they were ponies who had known each other well - the closest of friends - but now she found herself wondering if that could ever happen again. Luminous was so different from Twilight, not only having a much calmer head but also lacking much of the knowledge her former self had. Psyche couldn’t get that fact out of her head as she sat in the entrance to a cave.

“Stupid!” She cried out, the blindfold across her eyes hiding the tears that had formed. Knowing well what was to her left, she proceeded to turn and run her head into the cave’s wall. “Stupid! You are so freaking stupid! You had one chance to see your friend again, to tell her everything, and you mess it up! Why do you cause everyone around you to hate yourself Psyche?! Why?!”

Sweetie Belle looked up, and while the sight would have scared her a few days ago, the sight of Psyche physically harming herself had become normal. The first night, after they had returned to the wolf pack that Psyche had been placed in charge of, she disappeared for absolutely no reason. It wasn’t until two hours later that she returned, body bruised and beaten from charging her body into a rock wall for a significant amount of that time. She explained that it was her way of venting stress, and that she didn’t care what happened to her body as long as she could still walk. If there was one thing Griz had made clear to Sweetie Belle, it was that this happened a lot, to the point where Psyche actually dented her skull.

“Can’t you go one stupid greeting without making someone afraid?” The paradox asked herself, forcefully throwing her body into the cave walls. “Can’t you do anything right? Why oh why do you caused me so much pain?! All I wanted... was my dearest friend back! Ah!”

With that she threw herself against it one last time before collapsing in pain. Her forehead was bleeding, as well as the left side of her lower back. She wouldn’t have been surprised if she had shattered one of her ribs, or multiple of them. This amount of pain was something she was all to familiar with, and while it was to relieve her of stress, it was all to punish herself. She punished herself so that she would not make the same mistake again, and Sweetie Belle knew that she couldn’t stop it. If she told Psyche punishing herself was wrong, it would only make her punish herself even more.

Sweetie Belle could hear the chatter of wolves outside, once again reminding her that she and Psyche were the only two ponies here. At least they were the only ones who had experienced the fear and pain of the Equestrian countryside. Before Psyche had shown up the wolves hunted for paradoxes, who they believe would destroy the world if were left alive, calling themselves paradox hunters. It was quite a shift when Psyche showed up and, if the older wolves were to be believed, killed the alpha by merely looking into his eyes. It was the reason she wore the blindfold around her eyes, in order to make sure it never happened again. However, her use of that power was the very reason that she was now punishing herself.

“Psyche, you passed your limit again,” Came the deep, powerful voice of a wolf as they walked into the cave. He sat down next to his friend as she did her best to muffle her cries of pain. “This is the third time today, and the sixth in the past week. Do you really want to injure yourself anymore than you already are?”

“I have to, don’t you understand that Griz?” Psyche reminded him as she looked up, showing him how bad the bleeding on her forehead was. “Bad fillies like me are suppose to be punished when they do something wrong, and if none of you are going to do it then I will do it myself.”

“You aren’t in the Solar Empire anymore,” Griz told her, though he knew it wasn’t enough to ever make her stop. “No one is going to hurt you here except yourself, you said that to me the day you became the pack leader. Besides, I’ve heard the young ones spreading rumors of you dying soon, which I know isn’t true.”

“If I don’t fix things, I might as well be dead,” Psyche told him, Sweetie Belle doing her best to act like she was still asleep. “I’m promising all these paradoxes we’ve saved that I’ll bring them to a world where they can see the sun and moon. If I can’t do that… what purpose even is there for me?”

Griz couldn’t answer, knowing the exact same thing that Sweetie Belle did. The amount of pain Psyche put herself in was based on how bad the mistake was she made, and that ranged from a simple bump and bruise to knocking herself unconscious. That’s why the rumors had spread, and the gravity of the situation only made it more possible. Psyche had turned killers into saviors, and hoped that in the end she could bring back the ‘Equestria that once was’ or Dawn as she tend to call it. The weight that failure would put on her would lead her to more than just terrible pain.

“Have you found Alferiea?” Psyche asked, turning to Griz.

“Yes, but the possibility of dragging him back to answer for what he did is… not very likely,” Griz told her, his words putting a smile on her face. “He has started acting like a lunatic, shouting nonsense about absolutely anything and everything. In other words, he’s possessed.”

“Than I guess we need to do what we can,” Psyche explained. “Gather anyone willing and head out, after he’s dealt with we can get to finding Rarity. As long as he’s got a banshee in him it’s too dangerous to search for anyone, and I’d rather let him rest easily despite what he did.”

Griz nodded before starting a low howl, his eyes closed and mind focused on the bruised mare in front of him. Sweetie had been told of the power held in a wolf’s howl and how there magic differed from that of ponies. It was no surprise to her when the bloody and bruised areas on Psyche slowly vanished, her breathing evening out slowly. When the wounds on her body had healed Griz stopped, bowing as Psyche whispered a thank you to him before leaving. Now with her strength back, she turned away from the cave entrance and to Sweetie Belle, who did her best to convince Psyche she was asleep.

“Sorry you had to see all of that,” Psyche said as she trotted over to Sweetie Belle, who continued to fake her sleep despite knowing she had been caught. “I need to remember that you’re still young. I shouldn’t be doing things like that with you around.”

“Just… don’t kill yourself, please?” Sweetie asked, as she finally started to drift off, Psyche laying down right next to her. “I don’t want someone like you to die.”

————

Rarity watched the void of darkness that surrounded her companions, a flame lit on her horn. Her mind kept on thinking back to her sister, the fear of her safety overwhelming every sense she had. She could her the cries of her sister from when she was young, remembering how painful it was to see her mangled body. The price she paid for Arcane to save her sister was high, but she was more than willing to pay it, even if she didn’t want to remember it.

“At some point you gotta look where you’re going,” Vinyl told her, noticing the frown that seemed to be stained on Rarity’s face. “Your sister is going to be fine, I’m sure of it.”

“How can you be so sure?” Rarity asked, finally looking away from the pitch black surrounding them. “I’ve almost lost my sister a few years ago, and after our parents disappeared I was scared. I would have been all alone, and then Arcane showed up in my life and… it’s hard to understand.”

“Well if I worried about every little thing that happened to Melody do you think I would be talking right now?” Rarity looked at her with an expression saying ‘you don’t know what it’s like’. Vinyl simply turned her attention to Melody, who was walking alongside Ralf and Soarin. “I know how dangerous it is to let her stand there next to Ralf, being a paradox hunter just like his sister, but he saved us. I couldn’t bare the idea of Melody dying, not when she has become a piece of my life, one that I feel I was missing.”

“If you’re worried than tell her it’s dangerous, isn’t it that simple?” Rarity asked, her response coming in the form of a sigh.

“Yes, it might be dangerous, but keeping a foal isolated and safe can create things you don’t entirely want in a child,” Vinyl explained. “At least that’s how I see it. It’s good to give kids experiences, and for them to have adventures. If we don’t do that then how can we expect for them to act when they grow up? That’s why I let Melody talk with Ralf, even if wolves are a threat. This way I let her get a general sense of how she feels about them, and not how I feel.”

Rarity looked to Melody, who was bouncing around like any normal filly her age. The fashionista couldn’t help but see a lot of Sweetie Belle in the filly, remembering how curious her sister had been all those years ago. Then, when she almost lost her to the creatures of the darkness, Rarity had isolated her in there home. She didn’t want to take a chance at truly losing the only pony she still had in her life, but hearing what Vinyl said made her doubt her intentions. Unable to grasp the reality of the idea she shook her head in an attempt to get rid of it.

“Well I don’t think it’s smart to put a foal of any age in danger, even by the slightest amount,” Rarity said, trying to act proud. However, her thoughts easily wavered back to her sister, ears folded back in worry. “I… I shouldn’t have brought her along, because now she is completely lost! She’s probably all alone or wandering off trying to find me.”

“Your her sister not her mom, don’t act like she’s a newborn foal,” Vinyl told her before picking up speed to talk with the others. “Besides, I’m sure Sweetie Belle is more than capable of dealing with things by herself.”

————

“Are you suuuure that miss Psyche is going to be okay?” Griz turned to the young foal, a filly with a light brown mane and grey coat, who had asked the question. They were one of the paradoxes that had been saved recently by the pack, and like most of them had quickly grown attached to the eldest paradox.“I heard she was hurting herself again, in front of that robot foal she saved no less.”

“If only I could answer that with a yes,” Griz replied, watching the deep frown that appeared on her face. “I… don’t think you ever told me your name. I don’t remember seeing any paradoxes like you around.”

“Oh um aaaaah, I figured someone like you knew!” The pony went through at least a hundred different expressions until finally landing on shock. “I… don’t think I ever got a name. I’ve heard other foals call each other strange things but I didn’t exactly know what they were doing. Is Psyche a name?”

Griz couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea of anyone not knowing what a name was, but this was stranded for paradoxes. Typically a paradox doesn’t have any emotions, personality, or natural knowledge when they are first found. The older hunter had seen this enough recently to know that this was the case; no other reason would easily explain any of what she had just said. A paradox as young as her would probably not know anything about names, despite having used one moments before.

“Well, yes, but usually it’s the one who looks after the filly that gives them a name,” Griz explained to her. “A name is something you call someone that isn’t an insult, and is the only thing that truly belongs to you. A name is what you are, and what you believe, so when choosing a name you should choose one that describes you.”

“Names are weird,” The filly said, once again causing the wolf to chuckle. “Why do I get to choose my name though? Aren’t you the one looking after me right now?”

“Do you know what half those words mean?” Griz had fully expect her to say something along the lines of ‘what is half’ but she instead nodded. She was right him watching her right now. With Psyche resting and a group of hunters out looking for the possessed Alferiea he really had nothing else to do. “Well, I’m not much good with pony names, so I won’t try any of those. You… kinda remind me of this wolf many years ago. She was so old that her entire fur coat was at least a dozen shades lighter than any other in the position.”

“You’re going to name me after some old lady?” The filly tilted her head, a small part of her mane falling in front of her eyes and obscuring her vision. “That’s not very nice, I expected something cool from a wolf like yourself.”

“Trust me filly, the day I name you after my mother is the day that these old bones fail me,” He joked, though the look on the filly’s face told him that she didn’t get it at all. “Are you really sure you want this old dog to be the one to name you? I’m sure someone else would probably think up a better one.”

“Nope, you said that the one who looks after the filly gives the name, so you do it!” She then proceeded to touch his nose with her hoof, an action which gave him some really strange sensations. “Please, pretty please? Will you pleeeease be the one to give me a name?”

Griz was more than accustom to puppy eyes, and the filly’s attempt to sway him was far from effective. He’s seen plenty of pups pull it on him before in hopes of one thing or another, and in time he had gained an immunity to it. While he did have to admit that the filly’s attempt was more powerful than he had seen any pup pull, it was only enough to get another chuckle out of him. Yet he understood that he would probably be stuck with the tiny creature until he gave her a name.

“How about… hm, this is harder than I thought it would be,” He muttered, running through a list of names he had in his head. After a desperate attempt to think of any pony names, he gave up and decided on a wolf name instead. “Mazia, she was one of the earliest known alpha’s that come to my memory, and one of the few who were female. I’m sure a filly like you would do her proud by carrying her name.”

“Mazia, Mazia, Maaaaziiiiiaaaaa,” The filly tested the name to see how it sounded, before smiling. Finally, she smiled as she said the name one last time. “Mazia… I like it. See, I said that you could make a good name for me. Thanks you so much!”

“Just so you know, the name is Griz,” The wolf told her, a smile on his face. “I don’t want to here a mister or sir from you. I’m not that old, and I ain’t one of those stupid elders,” He leaned down to meet Mazia at eye level. “If you really want me to look after you, I’ll do that, but please stop worrying about Psyche. I don’t know if she’ll ever be able to get over what happened, but as long as I live she won’t die.”

“How are you sure?” Mazia asked Griz as he started to walk off, the filly starting to follow him.

“Psyche might not be the most stable, but she’s not insane,” Griz told her. “I put my faith in her when she became our leader, and I did the same when I became her friend. If anyone can make this all possible, it’s her.”

As Griz walked through the clearing that made up the pack’s dens, he looked back to see if he was still seeing followed. He wasn’t surprised to see Mazia following him, doing her best to hide whenever he turned around. On the one paw he was happy to see the filly following him, but on the other he felt a slight breach of privacy. He kept telling himself she would turn around eventually, but that didn’t happen. Mazia kept on follow him all the way back to his den and laid down right beside him.

“What have I gotten myself into?” He muttered, knowing he could hear the sinister laugh of a pony somewhere in the distance.

Author's Note

And so begins Eyes of the Nonexistent.

Both of these first two chapters had the same two goals for them: The first is to fix the problems I saw with the first two chapters of Beginnings, which were basically exposition dumps. The second is to establish how this story is going to work in terms of swapping between all the different stories going on. If one has Psyche in it then Luminous won't be featured in it, and vice versa with me switching every chapter.

Also, for those of you who never read the first part, I hope I made this easy to jump into without having to go back and read Beginnings. I want you to be able to enjoy the story from where it currently is and not have to read what came before. Anyways, hope you all enjoy Descendant of the Night: Eyes of the Nonexistent