[6,000 years earlier....]

Celestia trotted down the halls of Canterlot castle, a slight hint of worry in her step. It was only a little 'unlike a princess,' but she was just too worried. The chaotic outside she passed went ignored, and so did everything else. Even when she stepped into her room, the guards saluting her were just a blur of color and static. The time to strike was almost here, and there was so much planning to do. How would they attack? What would they attack him with? To many questions and work. So, she removed her golden shoes and brace to help her focus more. Nopony wants to be all dressed up while trying to work. The weight and tightness of clothing can get to a pony.

"So much to do..." Celestia plopped down on a large pillow, levitating a quill and neatly rolled scroll over towards her.

That was, until something landed on her head.

The impact was enough to shock her so much, said items fell to the ground in an unorganized heap. The object rolled off her head and clattered to the ground, leaving the princess to rub the top of her head in pain. With an unprincess-like snort, she glowered down at the object. It was a wooden oak box, no bigger than a shoe box. It seemed to have been carved out with superb talent, with how neat it's curves and edges were. However, symbols of some unknown language littered the wood as if they had scoured and fought for an open spot. With newfound curiosity, Celestia levitated the box over and gently set it down in front of her. She allowed a snowy white hoof to graze the top of it, surprised by how smooth the aged wood felt, even with all the symbols it embellished. Her curiosity peaked at the sight of a golden latch, held tightly in place by an old, rusty lock. Celestia's horn glowed and she allowed her magic to enter the keyhole, pushing the little teeth back until she heard a satisfying CLICK. A smirk of triumph plastered itself onto her muzzle, but quickly diminished when she opened the top to see the items inside. She felt confused. Why in the world would such strange items be in a box like this?

Inside sat six crystal garments. One was orange and shaped like an apple. Another looked like a blue balloon. A red lightning bolt. A pink butterfly. A blue gem. A bright purple star. Why would objects like these hold any significance?

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The fiery pits around him roared with screams of pain and terror, just barely drowned out by the crackling fire. The red ground, ruined buildings, and patches of dead, black grass seemed to never end. He skidded to a halt, darting behind a ruined yet large, stone pillar. His chest heaved as he flattened himself against it, not daring to make any noise. He waited, his spear-pointed tail curling around his leg, when the mob finally caught up. He peaked out, eyes widening. There were at least 25 mini, winged demons in total, all cackling and hissing. These were the kinds of demons they sent to hunt for monsters or outlaws, but they would kill if they weren't given the order not too. What made this whole situation worse than it already was, was that the lord and ruler himself could only command these things. However, these ones obviously hated each other, with how they would occasionally nip at each other with their thorn sharp teeth, but they all seemed to have one goal in mind that kept them from killing one another. Find him, and possibly bring him back to the castle.

"Where is he?" One croaked.

"How the hell would I know, you lout!" Another spat.

"Would you shut up?! We've got a traitor to find!" A more gruff, yet squeaky voice growled.

He gulped, turning away from the hunters. This was bad. This was very, very bad. He would have hit himself if it wouldn't attract attention to him. Relax. His brain liked that word, but he did not at that moment. He felt his muscles starting to relax from his mad dash, despite his protests for them not to. It felt as if his body just gave up on him, because everything suddenly began to ace. It shook a bit, as if contemplating what to do, and he collapsed. The chittering of the mini demons ceased, replaced instead by the scrambling of claws against rock and dirt.

"We gave him a real workout, huh fellas!"

His ears twitched, barely registering laughter and the little voices that followed. Even as they pounced on him and tore into his flesh, he barely felt anything. It was like an itch, but no matter how much you scratched, it wouldn't go away. His head jerked to the side as one of the demons made off with one of his ears and another scrambled away with an eye. He looked down at his body, which was torn to shreds. The demons dove in and out of the bloody cavities, a few coming up to cackle in his face. One even ripped a chunk of flesh out of him and stared into his eye while it feasted.

His vision blurred, and he allowed the black void to consume him

Welcome home, Alvar.

Author's Note

This is short, I know. Remember though, this is the prologue. It doesn't have to be 20,000 words long. The chapters after this will be longer, promise.