Midnight's Shadow: The Bog Witch

Chapters

The Bog Witch: Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Epilogue

The Bog Witch: Prologue

There was a great evil within the heart of Equestria. Its reach was long, its resources truly immense, and its power both great and subtle. Only I appreciated the scope of this threat, and I planned on ruthlessly hunting it down. But first I needed to fully know mine enemy. To act with haste without knowing the resources available to this evil would be to spell doom for all of Equestria.

Thus I had multiple boards set up, each covered with papers and pieces of string stretched out this way and that to connect facts together. I was in the middle of considering whether Diamond Dog raids in the south were related to the rise of gem prices in Southmarch when Mother entered my room.

“Child, there are matters I would...”

Mother trailed off when she saw my collection of evidence. Mine eyes remained upon the boards as I answered her. I was on the verge of an insight and did not wish to lose it. “What is it, Mother? Is some monster attacking the countryside and devouring ponies to sate its hunger on the flesh of the innocents? Or have the nobility launched some scheme to try and have you removed as grand vizier again? Or might I aid thy choice in our menu for dinner?”

“I was going to discuss dinner, but now...” Mother frowned as she examined one of the boards. “Explain this, if thou wouldst.”

Ah. Of course Mother would wish to know what I had spent the last week working on. It had so consumed me that I had hardly seen another pony, much less the sun. “There is a great evil which plagues the land—so terrible that 'tis nearly impossible to fully grasp. The hags in Appleton, the brewing war with Gryphonia, the Crystal War, the Ephors turning on Celestia ... it all arises from the scheming of one pony.”

Mother’s face screwed up. “I beg thy pardon?”

I stomped a hoof. “'Tis the Perfidious Filly, she is behind it all! Every ill in the world is her fault, I just know it.” I pointed to the boards as I went through different aspects of the fiend’s master plan. “The inflation of sugar prices, the increase in monster attacks to the south, rain storms on the night of the Gala—all her! ‘Tis all linked.” I rubbed my chin. “Even if I have yet to determine exactly how ‘tis all intended to work together. But I will see through the mist of her deceptions in time. Then she will rue the day she was born.”

Mother blinked owlishly as she absorbed the great evil I had laid bare before her. “That seems highly unlikely. I suppose thou wouldst blame the war on her too?”

I tapped my forehooves together. “Which war? I affirm thine answer regardless, for she is responsible for much. She manipulates events in little ways, bringing us closer and closer to war with High King Severus just as it was with the Lunar Rebellion. And I much mislike how events coalesce in Freeport. A little whisper here, a push there, the right people placed in the right positions—and then the evils of war hang over us.”

Mother groaned and massaged her brow. “She was but a newborn foal during the war, and a mere child of five years when Veritanu came to Equestria. How could she possibly have driven these events?”

I rubbed my chin as I returned to that question once again. I had considered many times in the past how such could even be possible. “How indeed, Mother? How indeed... 'Twould be a simple enough task to complete with time travel and an organization willing to do her dark bidding.”

Mother’s ear twitched. “Current temporal theory says that any attempt at the manipulation of past events would simply result in the creation of a closed time loop. Also, the filly in question has yet to display the slightest inkling of magical talent.”

“Or so she has led us to believe,” I countered. “Besides, what about the future? Who can say what new spells or magics could be invented centuries from now? With sufficient planning and preparation, any number of things are theoretically possible.”

Mother shook her head with a sigh. “As magi, we cannot base entire theories on what might be possible in the future. That is not even getting into the plausibility of some vast and secretive organization successfully hiding itself for centuries when I have trouble keeping secrets in court for more than a few days. Ponies are notoriously loose-lipped, especially about secrets.”

“Because most ponies are not involved in dark, horrible conspiracies bent on the destruction of all of Equestria.” I returned to examining my board. “Now, I must consider how the meeting of the mayors around Manehattan and the increase in bank interest rates are related to the Perfidious Filly’s plans—especially given the insidious nature of the banana market.”

Mother shot me an unamused glower. “Child, I think we must find a more useful endeavour for thy time.” A shadow of a smirk flashed across her lips. “Thankfully, I have the perfect task for thee.”

I stiffened at the news. “A task? But Mother, the Perfidious Filly must be stopped!”

Mother pressed her lips together ere nodding to herself. “I shall see to the matter presently. This task meanwhile requires thy particular talents.”

I frowned. “What task is this?”

“Archmagus Mossy Banks requires aid in resolving several tasks that require a Magus of thy skill, and I would reinforce my bonds with him,” Mother informed me. “Keeping all the archmagi firmly in my orbit is vital to our plans, particularly where our efforts to see thee become an archmagus are concerned. Thou canst learn the details of what Archmagus Mossy requires from him. No doubt he can explain what he needs and answer thy questions better than I.”

It felt as though a hole into the abyss was slowly opening up below me as I fully grasped what Mother wished for me to do. “No, you are not thinking to send me to ... Froggy Bottom Bog?! ‘Tis filthy!”

Mother tossed her mane. “As I recall, thou didst make quite a production of proving that thou hadst o'ercome thy aversion to mud and grime.” Her lips quirked into a smirk. “Thou wert positively covered in mud.”

I grimaced and my body writhed in revulsion at the memory. It seemed my gambit had failed miserably. “Aye, that is true. But just because I can deal with such things, that does not mean I wish to.”

Indeed, one of the last places I wanted to go in Equestria was that bog. I had read of Froggy Bottom Bog, and every description of it caused nothing but revulsion in me. That bog was filled with all manner of dirt, mud, gunk, biting insects, and other horrors that I hardly wished to think about. I would rather face monsters or warlocks in battle or, dare I say it, carry water again than face the filth of the bog.

“Duty often requires us to do things we would not wish to,” Mother stated, her tone brooking no argument. “I hardly wish hearing the whining of every self-important noble or ignorant farmer who comes to the palace, but I do what I must as my duties demand. If thou wouldst be a proper magus of Equestria, then thou must answer when duty calls.”

“Is there not some other duty I can do?” I pleaded. “Something less ... dirty? Thou art given requests for aid from all quarters. Surely there is another task to assign.”

Mother’s eyes narrowed. “Archmagus Banks requested mine aid, and thou art best suited to delivering it. I have given my word on the matter and that is final. Prepare thyself for thy journey, for thou wilt be leaving posthaste. An archmagus is not to be kept waiting, and thou havest a long flight ahead of thee.”

My ears wilted. Why was life so cruel to me? “Very well, Mother. Though if I could have but one request?” I looked to my boards. “At least promise to look into the matter with the Perfidious Filly whilst I am away? I fear what evils she might enact, and if there is anypony who can uncover them in mine absence...”

Mother smiled reassuringly as she patted me on the back. “Do not worry, I shall make it my highest priority until the matter is resolved.”

Mother was arguably the greatest warlock hunter in Equestria. If there was anypony’s hooves I could leave my great work in, ‘twas hers. “My thanks. My mind is already at ease.”

Mother inclined her head. “Very good then. I suggest preparing for thy trip.”

“I shall do so.” Delaying the matter would not make dealing with the mud any easier, and tarrying would only make Mother wroth.

I picked up a few things I would need for the trip, and as I started departing my room I noted Mother approaching one of my boards. No doubt she wished to examine the Perfidious Filly’s many crimes.

She picked it up and stacked it on top of one of the other boards, as though to transport all of them. I thought it queer, but that was probably my mind being foolish. Mother would not ignore a threat as great as the Perfidious Filly. Likely she was just transporting everything to her own lab or office to carry on my important research.

I knew I left this project in good hooves. For now, I needed to concentrate on what would be mine own disgusting mission.

Author's Note

Thanks to my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie for all their help, and to my pre-readers Brony Writer, wolfstorm56, Trinary, 621Chopsuey, Rodinga, and PoisonClaw for their hard work editing.

Chapter 1

‘Twas not long before I was flying towards Archmagus Mossy Banks’ home in a sky carriage, with the Great Unkindness following behind us. Froggy Bottom Bog was a difficult place to navigate. The mire seemed to go on forever, pools of water and marshy ground dotted by trees spread to the horizon and beyond with few landmarks to be seen. It seemed an evil place, with its near endless supply of mud, gunks, and filth. I shuddered at the thought of going down there. Given the difficulty in finding our destination, we had to get a prearranged Stalker Clan escort before penetrating the bog’s foul depths. Without them it might well have been impossible for me to discover Mossy Banks’ home. During the Lunar Rebellion, Pegasopolis and their earth pony allies had never been able to find the Archmagus in his swampy home despite putting considerable effort into attempting to find and kill him. In addition to the trouble with navigating the bog, Mossy Banks used powerful magics to keep himself hidden, though he had ways to allow some to pass through his wards without trouble.

‘Twas almost a surprise when the materfamilias of the Clan and wife to Mossy Banks, Ardent Stalker, showed up to the meeting place to head my escort to the Archmagus’ home. Though upon reflection, that made sense; I was the daughter to the Archmagus of Canterlot and Grand Vizier, and while Mother had been short on the details Mossy Banks required mine assistance with some matter. Given he was an archmagus, it seemed unlikely he would call for aid if ‘twas not for very good reasons.

Some hours into the flight, Ardent Stalker flew up to the window of my carriage to speak with me. She was a small and lean mare, her coat a light brown, and the locks of her mane a deep green. She wore a set of gambeson armor, though her helmet had an odd, bird-like mask to it with glass eyes that was currently pushed up to allow me to see her face. Her eyes were penetrating and seemed to observe everything around her, and they now focused on me. “I believe this is thy first time visiting our home?”

“Indeed so. I have never had occasion to visit a swamp before.” In fact, I had gone through no small trouble making sure of that. Though now all those efforts had come to ruin considering.

“It might not be much to look at, but 'tis home, and it suits us just fine.” Ardent pointed forward to a clearing that had been made in the bog. “Thou canst see it now.”

I looked out the window to get a better look at my destination. Several large wooden structures sat on thick trunks that held them above the muck. They were simple but sturdy buildings intended to last. Around the structures were half-submerged fields, laid out in neat rows to grow a variety of crops. Beyond the fields sat a wooden wall, with several towers sitting along its length. In addition to serving as Archmagus Mossy’s home and farm, the Stalker Clan had moved in next to him and built a new clan compound to replace the one lost in Cloudsdale.

“‘Tis very...” I desperately tried to think of a nice word to describe a hole built into the dirty bog itself. “Rustic.”

“Aye, that is a word for it.” Ardent shrugged. “Admittedly, I do miss our cloud compound but...” Her eyes seemed to focus on something in the distance. “Moving was necessary.”

Their reasons for moving were very similar to those of the Kicker Clan: after siding with Princess Celestia and turning against their fellow clanponies, Cloudsdale was no longer a safe place for them to live. That fact was made even worse by the fact that they were a minor clan, and would be vastly outnumbered by the other pegasi of their former home. Since the Stalker Clan and Mossy Banks had found themselves in concord during the war, Ardent had decided to resettle her clan in the bog. Though why she would do such a terrible thing to her own clan was beyond me. Mayhaps ‘twas some form of atonement for turning against the rest of Pegasopolis?

“I see you have not built any cloudhomes here,” I observed. “Why not live far above the dirt and muck of the bog?”

“Because homes built within the cover of the swamp are much easier to hide.” Ardent waved to the space above the Stalker’s new compound. “If we build a new cloud-compound then it could be seen for miles around. ‘Twould do much to undermine the advantages of my husband’s magic in keeping us hidden from enemy eyes.”

I frowned as I mulled over what she had told me. “Do you have any enemies?”

“Equestria always has enemies.” Ardent’s grip tightened on her spear. “The gryphon reivers raid our eastern coast, and while we are far from Eastmarch, there are always monsters to be wary of, bandits who would use the bog as a place to hide, and unknown threats who will make themselves known in time.” She frowned. “Such as traitors.”

She was not wrong. Even if one’s current enemies were defeated, that only seemed to create new enemies. That or new ones would show themselves. No one had expected the ephors to so suddenly and violently turn on Unicornia, but they had, and the price for them doing so had been terrible.

“Indeed.” I grimaced as I saw we were now descending towards the compound. “Still, it would be ideal to not live in mud.”

Ardent snorted. “We hardly live in it.” She waved her spear at the ground and logs holding up the buildings. “As you can see, we have our homes well above the mud and water. We would hardly wish to break our bread while sitting in muck, especially after a long day of patrolling the swamp for dangers.”

“That ... does help,” I admitted. “Twas still far too near the mud for my liking, but it helps.”

Ardent turned a frown upon me. “Thou seemst preoccupied with mud.”

“I do not care for it.” I grimaced as I thought of the trials that awaited me once we landed upon the ground. I dearly wished to turn this carriage around and return to Canterlot, but doing so would both deeply offend the Archmagus and cause Mother to become immensely wroth. Likely she would tell me to go right back to whence I came and not to return until I had done as she bade me.

“Well thou wilt need to tolerate it,” Ardent told me. “Especially with the work my husband will require of thee. We often need to dirty our hooves here, and thou wilt do well to get used to it.”

My jaw clenched as she confirmed many of my worst fears. “I can endure if need be.”

“Good. Mossy requires thine aid.” She waved for the carriage drivers to land on a runway, and they made their final descent.

Soon we were upon the ground, and I exited the carriage. All about me were ponies going about their daily work. Many of them were of the Stalker Clan, but there were a few earth ponies and even a couple unicorns spread about their numbers. The compound had a lived-in look to it: the boards were well-worn from ponies walking on them every day; crates, rope, and other supplies were spread all about where there were any open spaces, and below I could see some boats readying to traverse the waters of the bog.

Ardent waved for me to follow her. “Come on, then. We shall find my husband. If I know him, he is tending to his gardens.”

I followed her, trying to avoid any patches of drying mud I saw on the walkway. But I was so preoccupied with that task that I was slow to see a much larger threat: a series of oinks and squeals drew mine eyes from the floor, and they widened at the herd of pigs rushing towards me. There was no time to dodge or find a place to step aside. The herd of swine slammed into me, and I stumbled and fell to the planks as yet more of their number bumped into me. When ‘twas all finally over, I let out an aggrieved sigh as I saw how muddied I had become.

Ardent was hovering over the herd of swine, having avoided getting dirted unlike myself, and her eyes narrowed when they focused on a unicorn colt of about seven years responsible for the sounder. “Marsh Stalker!” Ardent barked, and the colt winced and came to an immediate halt. “What art thou doing driving all these pigs on the walkway?”

The colt grimaced and looked up. “Mine apologies, Mother, but Father told me to move the pigs to the east to try and find truffles. I thought this way fastest to get them there.”

“And thou hast trampled one of our guests as a result.” Ardent points at me as I slowly picked myself up from the ground. “Do not bring the pigs onto the walkway again. Understood?”

Her son’s ears flattened to his head. “Aye.”

Ardent motioned at me. “Now apologize to our guest.”

He turned to me and scrapped a hoof along the walkway. “Mine apologies. I did not mean to knock you over.”

“It is quite alright,” I said through clenched teeth. ‘Twould not do to o'er show my wroth with the child when he had already been chastised by his mother.

Marsh tilted his head to the side. “And who are you?”

“I am Magus Midnight Sparkle. I am here to aid Archmagus Mossy Banks.” I tried to wipe some of the mud off of myself, but I only managed to smear it around.

The colt opened his mouth to ask more questions, but his mother cut him off. “Thou canst ask thy questions of the mare later during dinner. Right now thou needs to get these pigs going. Off with thee, child.” Ardent waved for Marsh to go. “And do not do this again.”

“Aye Mother.” He returned to herding the pigs off the walkway.

Ardent hovered down next to me, frowning as she watched her child go. “Mine apologies, Magus. Sometimes children are prone to taking the shortest path to finishing their chores and do not think of the consequences of their actions.”

“I do not wish to make a scene of this, I assure you.” Really, I wished to scream in horror at being covered in mud. I had only been on the ground for but a few moments and already I was filthy. If this was but the start, what other terrible indignities would I have to suffer?

“Enough of that, then. There is business to attend.” Ardent turned and started leading the way again. She showed me down another walkway that led through one of the half-drowned fields where a variety of different crops and herbs were being grown. A couple of ponies were working the fields and Ardent approached one of them. “Husband, I have arrived with Magus Midnight.”

The pony stood up, revealing himself to be Archmagus Mossy Banks. It had been difficult to see him under his hat and beneath the grime covering him; he looked much different cleaned up for the conclave without his nicer dress hat, cloak, and symbols of office covering him. Though up close where I could see his face I easily recognized him.

He smiled at the sight of us and waded through the pattern deep water to approach the raised walkway. “Ah, it warms my heart to see thee, my wife.” Ardent leaned down so that Mossy could plant a kiss upon her cheek. He then offered me a muddy hoofshake. “Magus, 'tis good to see thou hast arrived.”

I stared down at the muddy limb, reluctant to take it. I could not refuse the gesture without insulting the Archmagus, and without being able to think of some way out of the dirty task, I shook his hoof. There was a highly unpleasant squelch as our hooves met, and a shiver ran up my spine as he firmly grasped me. “Aye, 'tis a pleasure,” I forced through clenched teeth.

The Archmagus stroked his beard as he looked me over, spreading a little bit of mud onto his whiskers. “I trust the journey was not too difficult? My wife assured me that thou wouldst arrive safely.”

“And so I have,” I said. “No vile reivers or brigands have assaulted me, robbing me of life and property, nor did some beast of the swamp attempt to devour my flesh and crunch my bones between their teeth to suck out the delicious marrow.”

Ardent blinked a couple of times for some reason before regaining her composure. “Um, aye. ‘Twas an eventless flight here. Assuming thou hast no need for me, I was going to check in with the patrols and then ensure that an appropriate dinner will be ready for our guest.”

Mossy Banks nodded. “That would be quite alright. I will see thee and Marsh at dinner.”

“Aye, until then.” Ardent and Mossy Banks pecked one another’s lips before Ardent departed. With his wife gone, Mossy Banks focused his attention on me. “Alright then. Hop on in and help me harvest these plants, and I will tell thee what I need of thee.”

I looked into the pool of muddy water below the walkway and hesitated to step into its filthy depths. “What aid did you require, Archmagus?”

He arched an eyebrow when I did not immediately step off the walkway. “I could use some help harvesting these penumbra stalks, for one. These herbs are helpful for several medicines I am working on. They just ripened, and I wish to harvest as many of them as possible before Her Highness lowers the sun.”

I frowned as I studied the plants in question. They featured a long stalk rising out of the muck that ended in a purple bulb. Beside Mossy Banks floated a bucket nearly full with the bulbs. I heard one of the reasons the Archmagus had settled here was because it sat on an intersection of leylines that allowed him to grow a range of plants that he used in his studies for medicines and potions. Indeed, amongst the structures of his home was a large greenhouse that was used to grow a variety of rare and difficult to grow plants.

“Ah, of course.” Determined not to enter the muck, I picked up a pair of cutters from the walkway and levitated them towards one of the stalks.

One of Mossy’s hooves shot out to smack them down into the water. He waggled a hoof in disapproval. “Not like that. Thou needst to get close to make sure thou art cutting in just the right place. Now get down here so that I can show thee.” The corner of his mouth grinned. “Or is a little bit of mud too much for a would-be archmagus?”

I puffed out my chest as I realized what was at the heart of this. He must have heard about mine aversion to all things dirty, and now he sought to test me. Well, I may hate dirt with all my being, but if I must treat it with utter contempt to achieve my goals then so be it.

I slowly lowered myself from the walkway and into the water. My hair stood on end when I felt the mud squish under my hooves, and for a moment I felt ill. I probed down into the mud, and after a few moments pulled out the cutters.

Mossy Banks nodded approvingly. “Good, now cut the bulb off right here.” He made a slow cut to show me and then presented the cut bulb as an example. “Be wary of cutting too close, or all the sap inside will leak out, and ruin the harvest.”

“I understand.” I had more than enough experience assisting Mother with such things and knew how to harvest a variety of plants. These penumbra stalks were hardly that difficult to cut, minus the fact I had to wade through the dirty mud to get to them.

The Archmagus watched me work a little bit before nodding in approval. “Now then, did thy mother tell thee anything of what I wished of thee?”

“She said 'twould be far better explained by you directly,” I informed him.

He grunted and went back to harvesting the stalks as well. “How much dost thou know of the Bog Witch?”

“I know she was a potent warlock whom you slew before settling here. Nopony knew who she really was, and so they came to call her the Bog Witch. She preyed upon the ponies within the swamp and along its borders for years, and attempts by the Long Patrol and the magi to hunt her down failed to root her out until you took up the task. If what I heard is right, her foul magic had come to corrupt the bog, and so you took up residence here to try and repair the damage.”

“That is correct,” Mossy Banks said as he plopped a couple bulbs into a fresh bucket. “I have repaired much of the damage, and given time the bog will be returned to its natural state, but one spot is vexing me yet. There is a glade she used for the most foul of her spells and rituals. I sealed its corrupting power, but the wards were recently broken. It seems some evil spirit was drawn to the dark power of that place and seeks to make it their own.”

“That is more concerning,” I said. “There is a risk the corruption of the Bog Witch’s magic could spread once again and undo much of the work you have done.”

“Just so.” He spat into the water. “The foul spirit could cause great trouble. Already Ardent’s patrols have spotted more monsters gathering around the glade, in addition to dealing with other troubles as a result of the coalescing evil magics.”

“And I presume you want me to address it?”

“Aye. Due to the corrupting nature of the spirit and mine own magic’s close connection to the land, I would be at a disadvantage against this threat. This is also not a task I would trust to just anypony. Whoever goes into that swamp must be of strong will and a capable spellcaster. The evil there plays upon the minds of ponies and the monsters there are not to be trifled with. What is more, whoever takes on this task must have the skills necessary to rebuild the seal. ‘Tis not a task I consider any of my apprentices capable, or even most of the magi of our order.”

“But ‘tis a task you believe me capable of?” I could not help but feel my chest swell in pride, even if it demanded I come to his dirty bog.

“Thou hast the skills necessary to seal this evil.” Mossy Banks looked me up and down. “Part of the reason why I went to the last conclave was to find a pony who could aid me in this, and I have determined that thou art uniquely resistant to the foul magic surrounding the Bog Witch’s glade.”

I tilted my head to the side. “How so?”

The Archmagus stroked his beard as he thought how best to explain matters. “Thou dost appear to be a natural sponge to all forms of ill fortune and curses. I have never seen the like before.”

I blinked slowly. “And that is somehow good?”

“Yes, at least for our purposes. In addition to naturally absorbing such evil, thou dost appear to filter such things into impotence.” Mossy Banks pointed to the bog beyond the walls. “ ‘Tis like how the bog absorbs much of the water from the rain to prevent flooding and to clean the water into something potable.”

My eye twitched at the idea of being compared to a bog. In truth, I was not sure how to take this metaphor. “So you believe 'twill not trouble me?”

He shook his head. “Neigh, not nearly to the degree it would trouble others. Though there are other dangers in the swamp that I would ward thee against. I assume thou hast seen the masks my wife and her fellow clanponies wear?”

I nodded. All the ponies escorting me to the compound had worn the strange, colorful bird-like masks. “Aye, I thought them a curiosity of the clan.”

“They are more than that.” The Archmagus grunted as he placed a couple buckets onto the walkway. “They are an invention by Mage Meadowbrook, and they are enchanted to protect their wearer from many of the dangers of the bog. Not the least of which is bog fever, but their enchantments will also make the animals of the swamp less likely to pay thee heed.”

“That does indeed sound useful.” In addition to the mud and muck, there were several dangers which gave me yet more reasons to never want to go to Froggy Bottom Bog. A disease that fatally turned you into a tree was a very good reason never to visit this place, and its mere existence made me wonder what madness would convince any pony to live here, to say nothing of the wide variety of dangerous animals and monsters that lived here.

“Aye, and I have made one for thee.” Mossy Bank’s horn sparkled as he cast a summoning spell. There was a flash of magic, and a mask appeared before me.

I took the mask and examined it. It was of a similar design to the masks worn by the Stalkers, with a pair of glass eyepieces and feathers decorating its sides. This one was pure black and had a long, raven-like beak. The Great Unkindness cawed in approval as they circled above.

I could give but one reaction to such a fine gift, and I spoke with all the seriousness due to the situation. “I love it.”

The Archmagus smiled. “Good. I trust thou art equal to the task?”

I would have preferred to have fled the swamp and never return, but the consequences for doing so would be terrible. Fleeing his quest would offend him and make him think that I was ill-suited for my rank of magus. If I could not handle the sealing of this evil plaguing his swamp, then ‘twas unlikely he would vote for me at a conclave to become archmagus, and the damage would only spread from there. As a highly respected magus and war hero, his words carried great weight with ponies, and if he thought I should not be an archmagus, then many would follow his lead. What is more, rumors of my cowardice would spread. Nopony would vote for me if they thought I could not deal with a threat such as this, for how could I be expected to aid them against similar threats if I failed here?

Neigh, there was but one path open to me if I wished to advance within the Magi Order, even if every fiber of my being was revolted by the idea of penetrating yet further into the bog’s dirty depths.

“If I can be of aid, I would be glad to assist you,” I told him. “Tell me what must be done, and I will see it completed.”

The Archmagus grinned and his eyes twinkled. “That I do not doubt. We will have thee provisioned and escorted to where thou must go tomorrow.” He pointed at the rows of penumbra stalks that still required harvesting. “But today there is still much work to be done before sundown, and I can explain what must be done while we work.”

I looked out at the long rows of as-yet uncut stalks with their muddy waters to traverse and sighed. ‘Twas going to be a long and dirty evening.

The next day saw me traversing through the bog. As promised, Mossy Banks had a boat loaded with supplies and gave me an escort of Stalker clanponies to show me part of the way to my destination. The bog proved to be even more filthy and desolate than I imagined. All about me was moss covered trees that darkened my path, with many fallen logs and branches clogging the paths before me and delaying my journey as I had to work my way ‘tween them. The waters I traversed were brown from mud, and was often covered by algae and lilypads. Dots of land speckled my path, their soil often wet with mud, and they were covered with all manner of shrubbery, brambles, and grasses.

‘Twas an utterly miserable and filthy trip that I did not think could get worse, but in this I was wrong. As we approached our destination, I saw what was concerning the Archmagus. Where the bog initially teemed with vibrant, if often decaying and dirty life, over time that changed. More and more of the trees we passed were dead, and many times fallen over with all manner of pests, parasites, and diseases evident in their demise. The water became increasingly devoid of the algae, frogs, and fish that once teemed within it, and the chunks of land became dead things where any kind of wilting life struggled to survive on its banks. What was more, there was ill humor in the air. It merely felt like a vague sense that something was off, but over time I came to recognize the corrupt energies infusing the swamp and choking the life from it. It only happened in patches, but Mossy Banks assured me that the rot got worse the closer I got to the source of the malady.

‘Twas as we started to enter this portion of the bog that my Stalker escorts departed my company. As Mossy Banks had warned me, the spirits and corrupt magic here had a way of playing with the minds of ponies, and ‘twould not be safe for my escorts to stay with me for too long. That left me with only the Great Unkindness for company. Mine escorts had at least left me with detailed instructions on where to go, and as the sun started to set, I reached a patch of dry land. There within the trees was a simple structure built amongst the branches of a tree. ‘Twas used as a patrol post by the Stalkers, and they assured me ‘twould be safe from most of the dangerous animals and monsters in the bog thanks to its height from the ground. ‘Twas at least well above the muddy earth.

My destination was still a half a day away, and my guides told me that ‘twas best not to traverse the bog at night. Considering they regularly patrolled this swamp and lived here, it struck me as best to follow their advice. Besides, the long day’s travel through the swamp had made me weary, and a good night’s rest someplace dry and relatively clean struck me as a wise idea.

Not wanting to risk any animals getting into my supplies, I began the process of unloading them and levitating them up to the tree-shed. ‘Twas as I was about to empty a large bag filled with corn for the Great Unkindness that a curious sound came to my ears: the voices of ponies. That was unusual, for the Archmagus and the Stalkers told me that they had told all the natives of the bog to avoid this place, and that they had patrols in place to ward away any ponies who drew too near.

I wished to know what this was about. If there was some lurking danger near where I was to sleep then I wanted to know what it was, and deal with it if at all possible. If it was just some ponies coming too close to the center of the corruption in the bog then they needed to be warned to depart.

I made sure that my new mask was securely fastened onto my face. The sweet-smelling herbs in the tip of the beak helped mask the smells of the bog. I also made sure my black cloak and black wide-brimmed hat were also securely in place before I headed towards the sound. The Great Unkindness started squawking unhappily over not receiving their dinner yet.

I sighed. “I will feed all of thee as quickly as I can.” I had been looking for a dry piece of land where I could place the corn for the ravens, but had not been able to find one in the fading light. I would probably need to clear a spot with my magic, though that would take time. But I wished to see what trouble was out in the bog sooner rather than later.

I sighed and levitated a bag of corn onto my back. “Here, we will see if there is a good place to feed thee along the way.”

I picked my way through the trees and brambles, and ‘twas not long before I saw a campfire’s light shining through the trees. Five ponies sat around a fire, all unicorns I saw and adults, a few years younger than myself. As I drew near, I started catching the words of their conversation, and even recognized their accents as belonging to that of ponies from Canterlot.

“I cannot wait to get to thy father's lodge, Penultimate. We will have such fun!” said one of them. He was a large, barrel-chested stallion with a light green coat, and short-cropped blue and yellow-striped mane.

The mare next to him, probably Penultimate, smiled smugly. She was a tall and thin thing, with an alabaster coat and a long, flowing yellow mane. “But of course. ‘Twill be enjoyable to spend some time away from our parents, work, responsibility...”

“That sounds like a fine idea to me.” The third of the companions took a puff of whatever was rolled up in a slip of paper. He was a short stallion with a yellow coat, and a dual-striped brown mane and bloodshot eyes. He was snuggled up with a mare with a pink coat and yellow mane who had her head lying on his chest, clearly content to remain where she was. “We certainly brought enough kegs with us to ensure our enjoyment.”

He waved at a nearby boat that lay on the shore. It was so full of supplies, many of them kegs, that I wondered how they fit everypony into it.

“I can drink to that.” A stallion with a red coat and orange mane raised a mug before taking a deep draft. He frowned when he looked into the mug’s depths and then overturned it to confirm that it was empty. “Or at least I would if I had something to drink.”

“Here, let me refill it.” The barrel-chested pony took his companion’s mug in addition to his own, and stepped towards where they had unloaded a keg. “Just do not drink all our provisions before we even get to the lodge. We have hardly even gottenaaargh!”

For some strange reason, he screamed and stumbled back when he saw me standing at the edge of their circle. The rest of his companions scrambled and shouted as they all raced to get on the other side of the fire from me. They huddled together, thought I did not know why they were all acting so frightened. The Great Unkindness flocked forth, filling the branches overhead as they watched the proceedings.

Wishing to warn these ponies of the danger and get back to my camp to sleep, I placed the bag of corn down before I addressed the group. “BEWARE! This bog is no place for thee! Remain here and ‘twill be thy doom!”

“Doom! Doom! Doom!” the ravens echoed, knowing the truth of the matter.

The barrel-chested one slowly pulled himself from the group to take a couple steps towards me. “Whoa! I do know who you are, but we do not wish for any trouble.”

Ah, good, then we had common cause. “The lot of thee are going into grave danger, and a most gruesome end awaits thee if thou dost not alter thy course. Return from whence thou came and never return.”

The pink mare hugged her intended tighter. “We are just going to a cabin to relax and enjoy ourselves. We are hardly doing anything wrong!”

“Do not listen to her.” The one with bloodshot eyes slowly pulled his special somepony off. “She is just some crazy bogpony!”

Mine eyes narrowed. I was no bogpony, and he had best not insult the fine mask that Mossy Banks had gifted me. “Heed me! If thou stayst here, thou wilt suffer a most terrible fate. Flee and never return!”

“Death! Death! Death!” the Great Unkindness cawed in agreement, and the ponies before me huddled together once again.

The barrel-chested one took a deep breath before stepping in front of me again. “Look, whate’er your business, it has nothing to do with us. Leave us be, or we may be forced to action.”

Was … was he actually threatening me? But why? I was merely giving them perfectly good advice to leave the dreadful and terrible swamp. Besides, they had clearly been fooled by somepony if they thought a vacation to a bog was a good idea. I was doing them a great favor by telling them to flee this place.

Penultimate scoffed, and called out with disdain from behind most of her friends. “Do not think to scare us! Do you know who my father is? He is a really important noble, and he will become wroth if he learns that somepony attempted to scare us.”

I internally rolled mine eyes. I had heard such threats so many times that I rarely felt the need to respond to them. I did not know who she was, so I could hardly know who her father was. Even if I did know who he was, I doubt I would be intimidated. As an archmagus and the grand vizier, mine own mother possessed a much higher station than nearly anypony else in all of Equestria, and she could probably break any and all of this fop’s parents. Not that Mother would approve of me using her name in a similar manner as this mare.

The pony with the bloodshot eyes slowly approached me one hooves that were tad unsteady as he held up a hoof in a pacifying gesture. “We do not wish for trouble. How about you just leave us—”

He lost his footing on the muddy ground and collided with the bag of corn. The bag fell over and corn to spread all about the ground. As one, the ravens of the Great Unkindness turned their heads towards the small, tasty yellow treasures on the ground.

“CORN! CORN! CORN!” they cawed as they descended upon their feast.

The unicorns gathered before me all screamed and fled. I knew not why—all the ravens desired was their meal. ‘Twas not as though they were fresh corpses whom the ravens wished to feed upon the eyes and tongues of while their bodies still yet cooled.

They ran for their boat, and in a panic, did their best to get it back onto the water even though the ravens paid them no mind. All while they yelled at one another, and created a great ruckus.

“Go go go!”

“Get in the boat!”

“We are all going to die!”

“They are in my mane!” Penultimate cried, despite no ravens being near her. Her panic flails resulted in her smacking the pink unicorn.

“Ow! Penny, you hit me!”

“It was the Bog Witch!” the pony with the bloodshot eyes cried. “She’s going to get us!”

“She won’t if we row fast enough!” The barrel-chested stallion shoved an oar into his compatriots hooves, and after half a minute they finally managed to get off the shore.

I frowned as I saw that they were all very slowly heading deeper into the forbidden and dirty bog. “Neigh! That is not the way!” I waved a hoof in the direction of Mossy Bank’s home. “Go that way instead! Turn away! Turn away! Neigh, that is the wrong way! Safety is the other way, thou fools!”

“She is casting a spell at us!” one of them cried.

“I do not wish to be turned into a frog!”

“Row faster! Row like thy lives depend on it!”

“I dropped mine oar!”

No matter how much I beseeched them to go towards safety, they inexorably continued towards doom until they and their boat disappeared into the darkness. I sighed, lamenting the fools that I must tolerate in the world.

I felt a sudden, odd sympathy with Mother and the fact she had to deal with ponies such as these every day.

Author's Note

Thanks to my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie for all their help, and to my pre-readers Brony Writer, wolfstorm56, Trinary, 621Chopsuey, Rodinga, and PoisonClaw for their hard work editing.

Chapter 2

Sometimes I wondered if the whole world sought to vex me. It certainly felt that way as I was forced to trudge my way through the bog. As if the filth of the swamp was not enough to worry about, I also had to bother myself with the fools who had been misled into believing that the swamp was someplace to enjoy oneself. But I did not have time to deal with their foolishness, I had a task that I needed to finish if I was to get out of this forsaken filth hole. So I sent a message with my magic to Mossy Banks telling him that the ill-informed ponies I had encountered were traveling further and further into the most dangerous portions of the swamp. With any luck, he would send some of the Stalkers to find them and escort them out of the bog. I certainly did not wish to have to bother with the fools.

Instead, I focused my efforts on reaching my destination: the Bog Witch’s cabin. The cabin was every bit as dreary as I feared. There was an evil miasma to the land, thick fog blanketed the area, and there was not so much as a hint of life. There were none of the chirpings of birds or insects or the calls or movements of animals. All the world was still as though captured in a grey tinted painting. All the trees, shrubbery, and grass were dead or near enough so from some great blight that had sunken into the very bones of the land.

Even the Great Unkindness was reluctant to approach the area. They huddled close to one another and never strayed far from me. Occasionally they cawed in protest, uncomfortable with being in this place of obvious evil.

And that was only the beginning.

The cabin itself was an unimpressive structure. I was no expert on architecture, but even I knew it had been shoddily constructed. It seemed that the vaunted Bog Witch was no builder; the cabin was made of simple logs stacked on top of each other, and age had not been kind to the building. Its straw roof was starting to cave in, and the walls were starting to rot and flake away, with much of the mold between the logs having flaked away with time and neglect. This was by no means the accommodations I was used to, but I would have to make do with what I had in order to complete the tasks given to me—no matter how much I bemoaned the fact.

Having little other choice, I steeled my will and trudged my way up to the cabin. A sign sat nailed to the front door with faded red lettering that read: ‘By Order of Her Majesty’s Magus Order: Do Not Enter. Trespassers Shall Be Fined or Jailed’. A quick check confirmed that Mossy Bank’s alarm wards were still in place over the cabin. Anypony trespassing here would likely soon find themselves facing an unpleasant visit from the Stalker Clan or even the Archmagus himself. But the sign hardly applied to me when I’d been requested to come here.

I moved to open the door, but it was reluctant to give way. It had been years since it had last been opened and so stuck fast in the manner only objects left alone for years could be, so I rammed my shoulder into the door. It did not immediately give way, so I was forced to try again. On the third attempt, I hit it hard enough that it flew open and I stumbled my way into the cabin, briefly flailing before I regained my balance.

My disgruntlement only grew when I saw the interior of the cabin. Dust and mildew permeated the interior, and cobwebs stuck to nearly every available corner or space. Still, the cottage felt almost empty. The old furnishings were sparse, with the dining table and broken chairs piled in one side of the room. Mossy Banks had clearly removed anything of arcane use from the cottage long ago, and all that was left were the merest echoes of the life of the Bog Witch.

The filth of the place made me want to burn it down, but Mossy had specifically instructed me not to do so. He warned of the great evil that resided here, and that only the cabin itself kept it in place. I had asked why he had not dispelled the evil himself years ago and was given an answer so vague that it could have been spoken by Princess Celestia herself.

I sighed and went back outside to gather my things from the boat and transport them to the cabin. I returned to the cabin with several bags of corn within my levitation spell, but then found the door closed again. I grumbled as I was forced to repeat the act of shouldering it open. To make sure the door stayed open, I propped one of the bags of corn against it. After that I returned to the boat and retrieved my bags only to find the door closed again, and the bag of corn sagging on the porch.

I glowered, for my shoulder was starting to become quite sore from fighting the door. This time I pushed the door open with my telekinesis, and then froze it in place with a layer of ice. Content this would do the job, I went to retrieve more of my things. I returned with some bags Mossy Banks had given me, but to my severe annoyance, I found the door closed once more.

While normally I would consider such behavior quite rude and inconsiderate, my patience was now at an end. I ripped the door from its hinges. “Try closing now!” I placed it inside the threshold of the cabin, content that it could now no longer vex me as it had.

Pleased, I placed the additional bags down along with the rest. ‘Twas as I was doing so that a great wind started to whip through the cabin. Little surprise, the cabin was every bit as drafty as I feared it would be. And there was not even a breeze outside. Still, I ignored it as I went about making sure I had not forgotten anything.

Then the wind kicked up to a gale that forced me to dig in my hooves lest I be blown over. My, the draftiness in the place was something terrible.

A fresh gust smacked into me, and then a deep and terrible voice struck me and made the whole cabin shake. “Get out!”

I blinked owlishly. Sigh, ‘twas as I feared, the cabin was haunted, or mayhaps the spirit the Archmagus had warned me about was doing some insidious work. Well, I was not about to let myself be intimidated by some foul spirit. “Neigh, I have work to be done here. I will leave when I am ready.”

The voice redoubled itself, making the cabin shake even harder. “Get! Out!”

The noise was such that it shook the door and it toppled over to smack me on top of my head. “Ow!” I cried and rubbed my head. My eyes narrowed as my irritation grew yet more as the wind continued to buffet me.

Being quite done with the door now, I grabbed it and chucked it through the doorway so that it fell well away from the cabin in the soggy earth. I then drew together a fireball and tossed it at the door. The fireball hit the door and blew it to splinters. The Archmagus had said I could not set the cabin on fire, but I was sure I could get away with merely destroying the door.

That done, I turned back to the center of the cabin to address the foul spirit. “Thou canst scream like a petulant child, but I am going nowhere until I desire to.”

“Thou wilt die here!”

“Neigh, I have no intention of living here nearly long enough for that to happen,” I said. “Once my business here is done, I plan on leaving this place as quickly as possible and never return.”

The cabin rumbled again, but then settled down again, and the wind subsided. Good, I did not need my temporary residence to throw a tantrum like an ill-behaved child. Still, this place needed to be made into something close to habitable. I certainly had no intention of living in this filth, even if temporarily. Thus I started the process of doing what I could to clean the place.

Thankfully I had some supplies to aid in that, and magic was of great aid in the task. Thus it was not too long before I cleared away the cobwebs, though the grime was caked on in such layers as to make it a struggle to clean it without stripping away layers of wood along with it.

But ‘twas as I scrubbed the floor that I was interrupted by a strange event. Blood started dripping from the walls. For a moment I wondered if something had died violently, crushed or ripped open to empty the ichor of its life within the walls, but quickly dispelled the notion due to the fact that the log cabin had no space for such a thing to happen. That, and there was far too much blood dripping from all the walls for any one animal to bleed. I glowered as I watched trails of blood flow down and create small pools on the floor.

“Now that is just unhygienic,” I groused. I looked at the rag I’d been using to clean the cabin and sighed as it seemed woefully inadequate for the task asked of it. It was already black from all the dirt it had absorbed, even after repeatedly being cleaned by my magic, the rag had been thoroughly stained. I compared the rag to the growing pools of blood and did not like how the scales weighed against me.

My ears flattened as I realized this simple task was beyond me. “It seems I will be using that tent Mossy Banks gave me after all. ‘Tis certainly cleaner than this wretched place.”

A dark, evil chuckle rumbled through the cabin. It made me hate my acknowledgment of defeat all the more. Dirt and filth had defeated me, and I would not be quick to forgive or forget this lost struggle. One day I would have my ultimate victory.

“Right then, which bag had the tent inside of it?” Mossy Banks and the Stalkers had provided me with several bags containing all the supplies I could possibly need for the task given to me. So I started the process of looking through them and took a proper account of everything available to me.

‘Twas as I was doing so that I heard a loud series of thumping behind me. I craned my head to try and hear where the noise was coming from. A trapdoor sat on the floor near me, and it jumped up before the small chain holding it in place jerked and brought it back down into place. It did so twice more before settling down again.

The soft, quiet voice of a filly drifted from the trapdoor. “M’lady, could you please let me out? A terrible witch has trapped me down here.”

I frowned as I stared at the trapdoor. “Mmm, neigh, I think not. That seems like a poor idea.”

A tremor came from the voice. “Please, ‘tis cold and wet down here, and ‘tis been so long since I have had anything to eat.”

“I suspect thou hast managed under such conditions for some time now,” I said. “I see little reason to let thee out.”

The voice took a moment to reply. “Pretty please?”

“Neigh.”

A great rumble rolled up from the basement, and the voice changed from that of a little filly to something much larger and darker. “I said. Let. Me. Out!”

Ah, this would be the creature the Archmagus had warned me about. He had said ‘twas trapped within the cabin, and I was not about to unleash it. “Thou art not making a convincing case for why I should release thee, so I think I will let thee stay exactly where thou art.”

The trapdoor jumped up several more times, but the chain held it in place. It seemed a rickety and tiny thing to hold such great evil in the basement, but it had somehow held. “I will devour your soul!”

“I think thou wouldst choke on it.” I tilted my head to the side. “Not that I am about to let thee have the chance to do so. I like my soul uneaten.”

The evil creature roared, but failed to free itself. Curious, I cast a spell to let me scan the magic about me. It took only a moment to find the wards placed on the cabin, old and powerful, if of foul nature. Likely the Bog Witch had trapped the creature in her basement and never released it. Though while the wards were powerful, I did not like the idea of leaving my security to nothing but a small chain containing such a beast. So I headed outside and found the biggest rock I could find that would fit through the doorway of the cabin. I returned to the cabin, but then stopped at its threshold.

The door was back.

My eye twitched at the sight of it, stuck fast, unmoving, despite the fact I had destroyed it. My patience at an end, I struck out with a kinetic bolt that blasted the door to flinders. That done, I strode through the threshold and planted the boulder down onto the trapdoor. I then drew a magic circle with a piece of chalk and sealed it with my magic.

I wiped the dust from my hooves and nodded with satisfaction. “That should help keep thee in place.”

There were several more thumps against the trap door but they failed to move the boulder. “My day shall come, and thou wilt beg me for mercy!”

I ignored whatever foul creature resided in the basement to concentrate on more immediate concerns. “Now then, I do not think I will be sleeping in this foul and dirty place. So I think I will be setting up that tent to sleep in.”

I found the bag with the tent inside and started pulling out its pieces. ‘Twas as I pulled out its many parts and examining them that I realized I had a problem.

“Oh dear, how does one even put up a tent?”

I had no idea that tents were so damnably difficult to assemble. More than once I heard that clanponies could put together a tent in their sleep. I had never seen such a feat, but I would think if a clanpony could manage the task while not even being conscious then I should be able to do the same while awake. I was a powerful magus who had battled warlocks and matched wits with the fae, but for the life of me I could not figure out how to properly put up that damnable thing. After the third time it collapsed upon me during the middle of the night I had enough, and simply made a house out of ice and slept the night there.

At least there was nopony to watch my humiliation except for the scores of ravens from the Great Unkindness. They were a dignified lot, but I could hear them snickering at me and my discomfort. I swore that once I got back to Canterlot I would ask Gale how a tent was made. At least as long as I could figure out a way to ask her that would not make my humiliation known to the world.

Once the sun rose on a new day, ‘twas time to begin my work. Not that it was much of a morning to rise to within the bog. A thick fog clung to the marshy ground, and the grey clouds clogged the sky, obscuring the land. ‘Twas a long way from my mountainside home where I could see as far as the horizon. All the more reason to finish the task in front of me and return home.

Thus I gathered the supplies I required and sought out the points of power within the bog. The vile spirit that had taken up residence in the bog was undermining the seals constraining the corruption within, and ‘twas my task to bolster those seals and make new ones. ‘Twas best to use the leylines inherent to the land to strengthen those wards, even if it required me to trek around what felt like half the area. But ‘twas the most effective and safest method at my disposal, and ‘twas how Archmagus Mossy Banks wished it done, so that was all there was to say of the matter.

The task was simple enough, if somewhat time-consuming in nature. With chalk, salt, and blood from a fish taken from the surrounding waters, I went about drawing fresh wards on trees, rocks, and the ground. Once each sigil was created, I imbued it with my own magic and linked them to the leylines so that they would draw power long after I was gone.

I was already quite bored with the task by the time I reached the third place of power: an unremarkable knot of gnarled trees and shrubs sitting on a muddy patch of ground. It was at that time a high-pitched scream pierced through the bog. Curious about the disturbance, I did my best to judge where the sound had come from. The fog did a damnable job of obscuring sounds. I was about to call upon the Great Unkindness to try and find what had made the noise when something large and pink darted out from behind a tree and rammed into me.

I was driven down into the mud. Sensing a threat, my horn lit as I prepared to cast a spell. My eyes fell upon what had run into me, and I held back my magic. Before me was the mare with the pink coat and long yellow mane I encountered before, and she looked worse for wear than during our first encounter. She was caked in mud, with twigs having wormed their way into her mane, and brambles had snagged her tail. It seemed that ‘twas too much to hope that the Stalkers would find her and her friends and escort them out of the bog.

She blinked and shook her head to clear it. Her eyes then fell upon me and they widened as her irises became pinpricks. “The B-B-Bog Witch!”

Before I could protest that I was no bog witch, the mare shot to her hooves. But she didn’t make it more than a step before she screamed in pain. She nearly fell over as one of her forelegs gave out and she stumbled about as she tried to regain her balance. She clutched what must have been an injured leg to her barrel as she tried to get away from me.

Before she could get more than a couple of steps, I created a solid wall of ice that blocked her off. She did not stop herself in time before she collided with the wall and bounced off of it, falling back into the mud.

I picked myself out of the same mud, grimacing as clumps of moist soil fell off of me. Up until now, I had been doing an almost adequate job of keeping the worst of the dirt off of me, but those efforts had been thoroughly undone by this pony. I was in a foul mood when I called to her. “Thou art going nowhere.”

The mare trembled as she stared up at me, though I knew not why. Aye, I was wroth with her, but not nearly so much as to wish her harm. She tried to scoot away from me as I approached her, but there was nowhere to go with the ice-wall stopping her.

“Now what art thou—” I stopped mid-sentence when I heard someone stomping their way through the brush behind me. From amongst the tree branches, the Great Unkindness raised a great ruckus of caws. I sighed, believing that yet another of this pony’s foolish friends had come upon us, and turned around.

My expectations were subverted when I saw an iron-masked gryphon raising a rusty old sword to strike me down.

“That will not do,” I declared, and struck out with the magic energies I had gathered. A harsh winter gale lashed out and slammed into the gryphon to send it flying. It collided with a tree with bone-breaking force and fell into a heap upon the ground.

Before I could make sure that the gryphon was dead, I heard the mare standing up and trying to run for it. I spun around and threw up another ice-wall and she bounced off of it. “Did I not tell thee that thou art not going anywhere?” I asked.

Whatever was going on, I intended to get to the bottom of it. This pony required my protection, even if she seemed determined to run away from me for some queer reason. For if there was one gryphon in the bog then there were likely more. It seemed unlikely that a band of reivers would penetrate so far into Equestria without notice, but stranger things had happened. Best to be safe. Not to mention this pony and her friends needed to be escorted out of the bog for their own good.

Tears streamed down her face as her back laid flat against the ice. “P-please let me go! I did nothing!”

My head tilted to the side. “Who said that mattered? Now thou art coming with me of thine own will or—”

The mare pointed a hoof past me and screamed. I sighed and turned around once again. I fully expected to see an entire band of reivers behind me, but instead ‘twas but the one reiver from before. He was slowly rising despite the fact that I had struck him with enough force to easily break bones, if not kill him outright. Mayhaps the thrill of battle had overtaken him? ‘Twas well known that people could achieve super-equine efforts when their blood pumped in such extreme situations, including the ability to fight on when by all rights their body should have quit due to their injuries.

I sought to reason with the reiver, for I had no wish to spill blood when it could be prevented. “I am Magus Midnight, and thou canst not defeat me. Surrender, and I will grant thee mercy. Continue this fight and I will smite thee.”

If the gryphon heard my words, he did not show it as he slowly plodded towards me. I wondered if he had been so injured that he did not fully comprehend his plight. He certainly looked in poor shape. Most of his equipment was in poor repair. His iron mask and sword were badly rusted and chipped, and his padded jacket had holes and its metal plates also rusted. ‘Twas possible he was a reiver whom had been cast out by his fellows for some crime and had taken refuge in the bog. Whatever the truth was, he continued approaching me, and however pitiful his story might be, I was not about to let him slay me.

“Very well, thou wert warned.” A spear of ice blasted forward and took the reiver in the chest. He flew back and the ice spear pinned him to a tree. He instantly went limp, the life going out of him.

“There, now that that has been taken care of, we can—” My irritation grew when I realized that the mare had taken flight when my back was turned.

She was limping away, but she was giving far too much attention to me and the reiver as she fled. She did not see the low hanging branch in her path and collided with it head-first. The foolish mare fell and moaned pitifully as she twitched upon the ground.

I looked to the sky, wondering what I had done to be inflicted with such fools. No answer came, so I became resigned to help this mare who seemed to be doing her best to get herself killed without actually committing suicide. A quick examination confirmed that the mare had dazed herself, and it did not appear that she would be getting up anytime soon. So now she could not even be counted to be able to bear her own weight. Perfect, just perfect.

My troubles were added to when I heard the slurping sound of flesh sliding along ice. As I suspected, the reiver had pulled himself off my ice spear and was now lurching my way.

“I suspect thou art not mortal,” I mused to whatever this creature was. “Very well, if blunt force and piercing thy flesh will not put thee down...”

I gathered heat around me into a fireball and then threw it at the creature. The fireball blasted him to the ground, his entire body now on fire. Fire normally served to kill most creatures, even those of magical nature. The reiver now seemingly down permanently this time, I concentrated on the mare who seemed to be at the center of causing me a great deal of trouble. Thankfully, she hadn’t moved, beyond the odd twitch and spasm.

Now the question was what to do with her. Naturally, I had to treat her injuries and bring her someplace safe before she killed herself. Though I silently cursed over how much time would be wasted taking her all the way back to Mossy Banks.

Adding to my troubles was the fact that her friends were out there somewhere. ‘Twas clear they had penetrated far enough into the bog as to rile up its greater dangers. They would need to be gathered and escorted out of the bog, costing me yet more time with their foolishness. I was starting to worry that I would never escape the bog and its filth due to such delays.

The Great Unkindness above me caught mine eye, and a plan formed. ‘Twould take forever to go out into the bog and try and find all these fools. But the Great Unkindness was many, and they had the advantage of flight. Better yet, they could carry a message from me. ‘Twould make everything simpler and quicker if the ravens could escort these ponies to me.

Now I just needed to write a message telling them what to do. I possessed paper and a quill, but to my irritation, I could find no ink. Had I really forgotten such a simple thing back at the cottage? Ugh, I did not wish to waste time, so I sought something else with which I could write with.

A simple answer came to me: blood. I had a jar of it from the fish I had gutted earlier for my wards, and ‘twould serve my purposes well enough. Everything now needed for a letter, I started writing.

Dear reader,

Know that this letter has been written by the pony you incorrectly believe to be the Bog Witch. Also know that your friend is now in my power. She is well enough, if suffering from injuries sustained during her flight through the bog. If thou dost wish to see her again, thou wilt have to go through me first. My ravens will show thee the way to me, and I do dearly wish that you come with haste. For once all of thou art gathered, I will put thy suffering in the bog to an end and escort thee to thy final destination.

Sincerely,
Magus Midnight

I reread my words to make sure my meaning was clear. I did not wish to risk the fools would misread my crimson instructions. After all, all I wished was for them all to come to me so that I could escort them to the Archmagus. No doubt he would know what to do with them, and I could return to my much-delayed task.

Content with my words, an idea sparked within my mind. I cut off a lock of the mare’s tail, and used the hair to tie the letter closed. If they had any doubts that their friend was safe with me, that would prove it.

I gave the letter to the ravens and instructed them to bring these foolish ponies to me if at all possible. The bulk of the Great Unkindness flew off to search for the letter’s recipients, leaving me to deal with the injured pony before me.

Also, the revier was getting back up again.

If it showed any discomfort from having its flesh charred or the fact it was still on fire, it didn’t show it as it returned to its slow plod towards me. My ear twitched, and the crack of ice forming and roar of fire sounded on either side of me. “Thou art going to regret irritating me.”

I just knew that this was going to be a long day.

‘Twas some hours later when the pink mare’s eyes fluttered open. “Mwah-huh?” Her eyes widened when she saw me raising a rusty ax.

I smiled down at her. “Ah good, thou art awake.”

I brought the ax down as she screamed.

The reiver’s head came free of his body. The masked head rolled to a stop in front of the mare. She screamed again, showing that for all her faults she had a very good pair of lungs, and she quickly scooted away from it until her back hit the cottage deck.

“Relax, ‘tis quite harmless,” I assured her. “Whatever the nature of this reiver, I have done a fine job of dismembering it.”

I waved with the rusty ax at the reiver—or rather, its many pieces. The beast had proven rather difficult to put down, so I had led it back to the cottage to deal with while I waited for this mare’s friends to show. Thankfully, I had found the ax behind the cottage, pinned the reiver down in place with some ice-stakes, and went to work.

The mare shielded her head with her forelegs. “P-p-please do not eat me, Bog Witch!”

I blinked owlishly. “Okay.”

When nothing happened for several seconds, the mare slowly peaked open an eye. “Really?”

“Of course, ‘tis a simple request,” I said. “I am no cannibal, and I have plenty of rations to feed me for some time. So there is hardly an emergency that demands I feast on pony flesh.”

She slowly lowered her forelegs. “Okay then.”

I went about chopping one of the reiver’s legs off at the knee. “Also, do not call me Bog Witch. I am no witch, and I am not of the bog. Call me Magus Midnight or Magus.”

The mare gulped as she stared with wide eyes at the dismembered head of the reiver. “O-okay B—Magus, whatever you say.” She glanced around to take in her surroundings. Her eyes fell upon the dilapidated cottage, then my collapsed tent, and then my slowly melting miniaturized castle. There was a crack of ice, and the roof of the ice castle had collapsed in on itself, prompting the mare to flatten her ears. “You, um, live here?”

I snorted derisively. “Hardly. As I said, I am not of the bog. I am merely making temporary arrangements until I complete what I came to the bog for.”

Her eyes flicked to the woods beyond the clearing. “So I am free to go?”

“Certainly not. I do not trust thee to not go out and do something foolish like trip upon some other danger in the bog. And do not try and flee from me,” I instructed her as I lit on fire several logs I had stacked together. “I will not let thee run away, and thou wouldst likely only injure thy leg further. ‘Twould seem thou hast sprained it, so ‘twould be best to stay off of it for now.”

“Oh.” The mare looked at her now bandaged leg. I had applied what magics I could to reduce the pain and aid in its healing, but the healing arts had never been my specialty.

I tossed a dismembered leg onto the fire. “‘Tis also customary to give thy name when another pony gives theirs.”

She blinked. “Oh! My name is Sunny! Sunny Disposition.” Sunny hunched her shoulders as I tossed another limb into the fire. “W-what are you going to do to me?”

“Once thy friends have gathered here, I will escort thee to Archmagus Mossy Banks.” I pointed at the head with the ax. “As I warned thee, the bog is not safe. I take it this thing was chasing thee?”

Sunny gulped and nodded. “A-aye. We were at Dirge’s parents’ cabin. Gloom and I were, um...” She cleared her throat and looked away from me as her cheeks reddened. “We were all enjoying ourselves when that gryphon broke into the cabin and attacked us. Dirge suggested splitting up, and we all fled in every direction. Unfortunately, he started following me, and I couldn’t get away.”

I saw several problems with this scenario presented to me and had trouble deciding where to start. “Thou all decided to split up when faced with this creature? Mutually agreeing to this?”

She nodded. “Yes, why do you ask?”

“Hast thou not heard that there is safety in numbers?”

“Aye, I have.”

Several seconds passed without Sunny realizing what I was trying to tell her, so I decided to move to another question. “And thou couldst not escape this reiver? No offense, but he is not quick. Even with a twisted knee, thou shouldst have been able to escape him.”

Sunny shrugged. “I tried running and running, but he always managed to catch up with me somehow. Even before I hurt myself.”

“Mhm...” I had my doubts, but then this creature did seem magical in nature.

“So what is he?” Sunny got up and placed me between her and the reiver. “I do not think him a normal reiver. Dirge clubbed him in the back of the head with a keg, and he just got back up again as though nothing happened.”

“Aye, considering the abilities I have seen, I guess that he is a type of undead known as a revenant.” I rubbed my chin as I considered the burning limbs of the reiver. “Though normally they only ceaselessly hunt those that have wronged them in some great way. By chance, wouldst thou ever have murdered this gryphon? Particularly in some humiliating manner that would cause it to seek vengeance from beyond the grave? Or mayhaps thou didst kill his entire family in some horrible accident, like running them over with a carriage while drunk, smashing those innocent souls to the cobblestones and leaving nothing but broken and bloody bodies in thy wake?”

Sunny’s jaw dropped. “What?! N-n-no! I have never killed anyone!”

“Mmm, then mayhaps ‘tis one of thy companions he is after?”

Sunny shook her head. “I do not think my friends have killed anyone either. They are good ponies, I swear it!”

She might also be lying to me, or she might have gotten so far into her cups that she did not remember wronging this gryphon. Her special somepony, this Gloom, had clearly been using some form of drug before. Not to mention her friends were clearly becoming inebriated when I happened upon them. This might be something to look into—or perhaps encourage Mossy Banks to look into it. I did not wish to delay my mission yet more because there was some complicated murder conspiracy going on.

Sunny scooted closer to the reiver and gently prodded its head with a hoof. “Is it, um, dead?”

“Technically ‘tis already long dead.” I tossed the torso onto the fire, and the fire briefly roared as new fuel was added to it. “Though ‘tis not finished yet. Once I have burned it down to ashes, I plan on casting a ritual that should do away with it once and for all. Do not worry, thou art quite safe, and—”

Sunny started screaming.

I flattened my ears to my head. I swore, this mare was going to be the end of my hearing. “What is wrong with—ah, I see.”

One of the reiver’s talons had latched onto Sunny’s neck, and she was desperately trying to bat it off of herself. “So that is where that talon went,” I said as I watched her thrash about in a panic. “I dismembered that talon, but when I turned my back on it for a moment it had run off. I knew not where it went.”

Sunny fell to the ground and started thrashing about. “Getitoff! Getitoff! Getitoff!”

I sighed and moved closer to her. “Stop moving. I do not wish to accidentally cut off thy head with this ax, spraying myself in a fountain of thy blood, or to freeze thy neck, causing thee to slowly choke to death as thy throat is closed by frozen flesh, resulting in a slow and terrible death that thou cannot escape.”

Before I could properly aid Sunny, the talon leaped off of her and scurried off. I fired a half dozen ice darts to try and pin it in place, but it zigzagged, causing all my shots to miss. Before I could fire off another spell, it dived under the deck.

“Damnation,” I growled. “It got away again.”

Sunny shivered as she rubbed her neck. “I thought you said I was safe!”

I rolled my eyes. “Relatively. Thou art still alive and conscious, and none of thy lifeblood is spilling upon the ground. And ponies say I am overly literal...”

Sunny leaned down to look under the deck. Its depths were almost preternaturally dark, and random objects were strewn about, obscuring all that was down there. “Hm, maybe if I just reach and...”

The foolish mare reached her good leg under the deck and started grasping around. Seeing that no good could come of this, I immediately grabbed her with my magic and yanked her away from the deck. “Do not do that. We can worry about the talon later.” I blocked off the gap under the deck with a solid layer of ice. “My ritual should destroy whatever foul magic is animating it anyways, so do not concern thyself with it further, and definitely do not reach under there again.”

“If you say so.” Sunny’s ears perked and she looked down at her hoof. “Oooh, what is this?”

In her hoof was a strange little bronze box. Irregular lines ran all along its surface that created a byzantine, but somehow purposeful, pattern that drew in the eye.

“I think it’s a puzzle.” Sunny used her hooves to try and move the pieces of the box. “I wonder if—”

I slapped the box out of her hooves. “Do not touch that. Thou dost not know where that has been or what it does.”

“Hey!” Sunny rubbed her fetlocks and frowned down at the box. “‘Tis just a puzzle.”

“I would rather not take the chance.” I picked up the box with my magic and tossed it into the bonfire. More to keep it out of Sunny’s hooves than out of expectation it would destroy the bronze box. “This cottage is an evil place, and no good can come of it, even its toys.”

Sunny frowned at me. “You make it sound like a toy could be dangerous.”

“I have seen terrible things.” That, and I did not trust the survival instincts of this mare. Assuming there was not in fact some foulness at work here...

Sunny hesitated, glancing at the fire before returning her gaze to me. “Can we go find my friends now? I miss them terribly, and they might be hurt. As you said, the bog is dangerous.”

I sighed and tossed more of the reiver into the fire. “I have sent the ravens out to find them. If they are in danger the ravens will tell me and I can go out to find them. Besides, thou art injured.”

Sunny crossed her forelegs to hold herself. “Still, I would feel better if we searched for them. One of my friends, Penny, wasn’t feeling well. She said she just needed some rest to get better, but then we were chased out of the cabin and...” She grimaced, holding herself tighter. “I am scared for all of them.”

I frowned as I considered her pleas. “Thy friend, what symptoms was she showing?”

“She got these strange orange spots all over her, and she started coughing bubbles,” Sunny said. “‘Twas so strange. And I swear, when she sneezed bolts of lightning came from her nose. I have never seen the likes.”

I hissed in a breath. “Damnation, we need to go. Now.”

“Wait, why?”

“Because thy friend has Swamp Fever.” I created a disk of ice and pointed at it. “Get on. I am not about to leave thee here alone.”

Sunny gingerly stepped onto the disk, biting her lip as she did so. “How bad is it Bog—Magus? Is my friend going to die?”

“Neigh, not technically.” I tossed the rest of the revenant onto the fire, hoping that burning it to ashes would keep it still long enough for me to do what needed to be done. I hated leaving a job half-finished, but priorities were what they were. “If the Swamp Fever is allowed to take its course, she will turn into a tree, forever trapped in the bog and made to spread Swamp Fever to yet more hapless victims. So ‘tis a fate worse than death, really.”

Sunny blinked. “We have to save her! Is there anything you can do?!”

“If I get to her in time, aye.” I started trotting as the sun closed with the horizon. “Though what we need to do is get her back to Archmagus Mossy Banks. He has a cure for Swamp Fever, but we need to get her to him without delay.”

As if I did not have enough trouble to deal with as was, now time pressed to save the life of this Penny. And who knew what trouble Sunny’s other friends might be in. No good with these ponies running around in the bog in a panic. Matters were not helped that darkness was swiftly approaching.

What fools had I been forced to endure?

Author's Note

Thanks to my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie for all their help, and to my pre-readers Brony Writer, wolfstorm56, Trinary, 621Chopsuey, Rodinga, and PoisonClaw for their hard work editing.

Chapter 3

The fog settled heavily over the bog as the sun set. Between the darkness cast by the gnarled branches above and the near-impenetrable fog, we could only see a few steps in front of us. The blue glow from my horn only helped a little bit, and it took vigilance not to trip upon some root or hole in the soggy ground. Thankfully, relief came in the form of the Great Unkindness. The ravens had found the fools who had come into the bog of their own free will and a line of them in the trees led the way. If not for them, I might have ended up wandering the bog all night without having found anypony.

Mine irritation grew as I was forced to muddy my hooves trudging through the swamp, and I silently cursed the ponies who were inconveniencing me. My mood was not improved by my companion. As I swiftly discovered as I carried her on a disk of ice, she was quite the talker and seemed determined to make sure that I never experienced even a moment of peaceful silence. For a period that felt like an eternity, I was inflicted with her endlessly talking about every little thing that came to her mind, including the various ... adventures of her friends.

“...but instead of doing the trick like Gloom intended, the squirrel attacked him.” Sunny held up a hoof to her mouth as she snickered. “Poor Gloom, he started running around in a panic, but the squirrel kept ahold of him even as he flailed about.”

“How unfortunate,” I groused as I was afflicted with yet another unrequested story. Considering the tasting of stories I had heard, it sounded as though Sunny’s friends regularly inflicted unfortunate incidents upon themselves.

“We did warn him about not getting that peanut butter onto himself,” Sunny continued, oblivious to my thoughts.

“Clearly.” I nearly tripped upon a root and stifled a curse. “And why wouldst thou court a stallion who regularly inflicts such incidents upon himself?”

That drew a frown from Sunny. “He is sweet once you grow to know him.”

“I do not see why he would be ... sweet.” Indeed, considering his tendency to use recreational drugs and the many self-inflicted accidents Sunny herself had admitted to, I could hardly understand her desire.

A hint of anger entered her tone. “Because he is a kind soul and merely wishes to make me happy. He only got attacked by that squirrel because he wanted to make me smile!”

“He was attacked by a small rodent and defeated,” I pointed out. “That does not speak well of his combat prowess.”

Sunny shifted uncomfortably on the disk. “He's not really a warrior... But he still means well.”

I ducked under a low-hanging branch that suddenly appeared out of the fog and lowered Sunny so that she would not hit it either. “Good intention can only go so far.”

Sunny puckered her lips in a pout. “At least he cares. Not everypony does, and I would rather be with somepony who cared for others than somepony that is heartless.”

I frowned as I considered that. “Caring is ... something. Still, care is best married with competence.”

Her head cocked to the side as she studied me. “And what about you?”

“Me?”

“Does anypony set your heart aflutter?”

My steps slowed a bit at that. “There are some.”

Sunny smiled encouragingly. “Oh? Like who?”

I frowned and continued forward. “I would prefer not to say.”

“Aaaw.” Sunny’s ears wilted as she pouted. “I was curious.”

I sniffed and raised my chin. “Such matters are very private, especially when fluttering hearts are not always appropriate.”

Sunny sighed and rolled to her back. “That is no fun. I was curious who would interest a bog witch.”

“Then thou shouldst ask an actual bog witch.”

“But you live in the bog,” Sunny said. “And you seem to be some great spellcaster. So does that not make you a bog witch?”

I scoffed at the idea. “Hardly. I do not live here, I simply have a task that has unfortunately placed me in this forsaken mire.”

“Froggy Bottom Bog does not seem so terrible.”

I glanced around at the fog-shrouded land, with its dirty, mucky mud, gnarled old trees, fetid waters, and annoying buzzing bugs and the flatulating belch of gases releasing from the ground all about us. “You are very strange.”

Sunny glowered at me. “Have you looked yourself in the mirror?”

“Often. Why dost thou ask?”

Sunny wrinkled her nose and took a moment to respond. “Nevermind.” She let out a long sigh. “I do hope my friends are alright. That reve-thing gave us all a terrible fright.”

“I am sure they will be, so long as they do nothing foolish.” Which based upon all I had heard of her friends, seemed a forlorn hope.

“How long before—” A belch of swamp gas released from the ground and cut her off, and she coughed and hacked as the foul-smelling odors ascended to meet her nose.

Thankfully, I was saved from her fate. The mask I wore protected me from the swamp gas, along with several other potential maladies. “Art thou well?”

Sunny wavered back and forth as though drunk. “Oooh, my head feels light...”

She started falling over, and I raised my legs to try and keep her upright. But she was bigger than me, and she merely fell off the disk and collapsed on top of me. I grunted at the impact, and the both of us went sprawling back into a bramble bush. I yelped as the thorns bit into me as Sunny’s body pressed down upon me, and my body instinctively convulsed to pull myself out of the brambles. Mud covered both of us in our jumble. I growled as I found myself even filthier than before.

I worked to get my hooves under me, but several bramble branches clung to my cloak and coat. Finding myself stuck, I pulled out my dagger and started cutting the brambles to free myself. Sunny was, predictably, of no use. She lay in the mud and giggled as though hearing some fine joke.

“There are so many colors that sound so pretty,” Sunny said as she stared at her hooves with great fascination.

I huffed and kept chopping at the brambles. “Thou art delusional. It seems as though this whole evil bog has turned itself against us—and especially me.”

It was only as I got myself free enough to stand that I heard a great gasp from behind me.
“‘Tis her! ‘Tis the Bog Witch! And she has Sunny!”

“What is she doing to her?!”

“What do we do?! What do we do?!”

I turned to face the newcomers and nearly strangled myself as the brambles clung to my cloak. Craning my neck, I got to see Sunny’s friends. Unsurprisingly, the bog had not been kind to them. Each of them was covered in dirt and mud, twigs and brambles were tied into their disheveled manes and tails, and they all sported a range of bruises and scrapes. What struck me as the greatest change in them was the haunted look in their shadowed eyes: it was the same type of harrowed expression soldiers got after seeing a terrible battle. They huddled together in fear of what stalked through the darkened bog. Whatever they had experienced, I could see that they were a long way from the carefree ponies that had entered the bog. Fools. I had warned them that there was nothing but evil in the bog, and they had not listened to me.

Still, they were here now. Which meant I could escort them out of the horrid bog and then get back to my task. “Ah good,” I said, hacking with my dagger to try and free myself of the brambles. “Thou art finally here. Now we can—”

The muscular one by the name of Dirge Caller took several aggressive steps forward and held up a torch as though to strike with it. “Let our friend go!”

My head tilted as I tried to contemplate his actions. Why was Dirge acting so hostile? All I wished to do was escort all of them out of the bog for their own good. Clearly they were not enjoying their time in this accursed place. Had they not read my letter to them? Were they illiterate in addition to being fools?

I opened my mouth to ask about their strange behavior, but the mare Penultimate spoke over me. “Oh my goodness! Sunny looks hurt!”

Crimson Tunic, the pony with the red coat, jabbed a hoof in my direction. “What did you do to her?!”

My nostrils flared at my unwarranted treatment. “I have done—”

Sunny interrupted me as she started inexplicably screeching. Her eyes were wide as she stared at something only she could see. “The spider! ‘Tis too big! ‘Tis too big!” She scooted back until her back hit a tree and she kept right on screaming.

If there was a spider, especially one of unusual size, I did not see it. Likely this was just a result of her inhaling the bog’s foul humors.

“The Bog Witch is using her magic to hurt Sunny!” Crimson cried. “She must be giving her some sort of waking nightmare.”

I wrinkled my nose as I was falsely accused. “Neigh, I would never—”

“Or there’s a giant invisible spider that only Sunny can see!” Gloom Walker spoke over me. “We need to do something. Look, my grandmother came to me in my dreams, and she said—”

Penultimate Day, the tall mare with the white coat, stomped a hoof to interrupt him. “Enough of thy damned grandmother! Thou wert merely taking leave of thy senses because thou wert partaking of thine herbs! We need to—”

She was silenced as a coughing fit overtook her, and Crimson and Gloom moved closer to her with concerned looks. Getting a moment to see her, I saw that the swamp fever had taken her far into its embrace. Blue spots covered her, and a pair of tree branches were starting to grow out of her. That was it, this farce needed to come to an end.

“Listen fools,” I called out in a commanding voice. “Thou wilt do as I say, or—”

“Silence!” Dirge took a wary step forward before he backed up two more, his torch still at the ready even as he seemed unsure what to do with it. “End the curses you have placed on Penny and Sunny, and let us go. Otherwise I will—will do something!”

My eyes narrowed at the insolent fool, but then something caught my attention. Swamp gas burped out of the earth, and a sinking feeling formed as my eyes flicked to the lit torch. “Put out that torch immediately or ‘twill be thy doom!”

“You do not scare me!” Dirge cried out. That seemed accurate, insomuch that I was growing to suspect he was not so much scared as terrified of me. “Release my friends from your foul magics now! I swear my friends and I are getting out of the bog alive!” he said as he waved the torch. “And nothing is going to stop—”

Another burp of swamp gas shot up from under Dirge. The torch lit the flammable gas, and a great conflagration consumed the poor fool. I barely got a shield up in time to protect Sunny and myself from the explosion. Still, I did not have much time to make it a stalwart shield, and while it took the brunt of the blast, the explosion blew both of us back. We landed in a muddy pool of water, covering each of us in yet more filth. I grabbed Sunny and swam to the surface of the pool. When I emerged at the surface, I coughed and spluttered as I regained my senses.

The bog was on fire. With a blast of icy wind, I blew away the worst of the smoke to get a better look around us. The trees burned, and the flames set off yet more explosions as more gas was released from the bog’s foul depths. I could not see any sign of Sunny’s foolish friends. Well, except for Dirge, of which there was little left to speak of.

Sunny coughed as she cleared her lunges of the swamp’s brackish waters. Her eyes widened, quickly sobering at the sight of the ruination before. “Why is everything on fire?!”

“Thy foolish friend set the gas of the swamp on fire!” I coughed as the smoke threatened to overwhelm us. I grabbed Sunny and started swimming away before we all burned to death.

Sunny did not resist me as she stared at the fires. “What happened to Dirge? And my other friends?”

“He is dead, his body burnt to a crisp in an instant as the flames consumed his flesh. We must flee this place or share his fate.” I sighed as the muck covering the surface of the water started clinging to me. “Of course the swamp would be prone to catching aflame. 'Twas not terrible enough when 'twas merely a disgusting bug-infested mudhole...”

Once we were safely away from the burning portions of the bog, we took time to recover and collect ourselves. More accurately, I recovered while Sunny mumbled to herself and rocked in place. It seemed that she had finally taken one too many shocks, but I could not allow myself the simple pleasure of letting madness overtake me. Not that I was about to let the bog have the pleasure of overcoming me.

I left Sunny to her trauma. At least now she was not running around doing anything foolish, and I could concentrate on more productive actions. I sent the Great Unkindness forth to once again search for the fools before more of them got themselves killed, assuming some foul fate had not already taken them.

After a couple of hours waiting in the fog shrouded bog, the High Marshall Trinket returned to report their findings. “We cannot find them, Raven Queen.”

I blinked slowly as I took this news in. “How is that possible? You are the Great Unkindness.”

Trinket fixed a feather in irritation. “Fog thick, evil fog, evil bog. Hard to navigate. Ravens get lost, not everyone reports in.”

This was foul news indeed. I had never known the Great Unkindness to fail to find anyone given sufficient time. It seemed the evil in this bog was much more active than I would have desired.

“That is concerning. The Unkindness is mighty.” The noble birds cawed in agreement with that, though there was a note of disquiet in their voices. Likely the filth of the bog was making them as uneasy as myself.

“Um, what are they saying?” Sunny had come out of her traumatized stupor and looked up at me. “I do not understand them as you seem to.”

“My minions cannot find your friends,” I said. “I fear they almost certainly went to their doom.”

“What?! No!” Sunny bolted to her hooves and ran to me. “You need to do something!”

“I have been trying,” I said, trying to keep my tone patient. “Is there anything you could do to help me find your friends?”

Sunny’s ears wilted. “Not really. If we were in Canterlot then I would know where everyone spends their days, but in the bog...”

I sighed and nodded. “Aye, thou art out of thine element. As are we all. Perhaps we could narrow our search to the few places in this damnable marsh that are less horrible.”

Sunny hunched her shoulders and her gaze swept through the shadows as though any one of them might be hiding an unseen threat. “Like where? I doubt they will go back to Dirge's family cabin. 'Twas on fire last I saw it.”

I had to wonder if it had been set on fire in an attempt to destroy the revenant or merely because of her friends’ incompetence. “True. Likely they would seek shelter elsewhere. Such as the cabin.”

Sunny wrinkled her nose. “Why there?”

“Because at least there they can get out of the mud.” I grimaced as I remembered the grime that now covered me. “Anything that seems like civilization would be welcome in a place such as this.”

Sunny nodded. “And because they would think ‘tis safe.”

“As a secondary concern, yes,” I agreed. “Though the cabin is terribly cursed and haunted, though they would not know that.”

She stared at me for a long moment. “You really do not like the mud, do you?”

“What sane pony does?”

“'Tis just some dirt.”

“Not just dirt. Mud.” I looked at my hoof and sneered in disgust at the mud that clung to it.

“Right. Can we concentrate on helping my friends? After Dirge... Dirge...” Sunny sniffled and started to tear up.

“Yes, saving their lives is my primary objective.” I waved for her to follow me. “I will have the Great Unkindness continue to search for them. In the meantime, we will return to the cabin. ‘Tis possible my magic will allow us to find them, but there are a few things I desire to gather before making the attempt.”

We returned to the Bog Witch’s cabin. Darkness clung to the land every bit as firmly as the fog. And just as stubborn as the fog, the revenant was attempting to get back at its murderous ways. ‘Twas crawling over the ground, still badly burned from the fire I had thrown it upon, and ‘twas attempting to pull its dismembered parts together.

I scowled down at it. “How irksome.”

Sunny grimaced, as she half-hid behind me. “How is that thing not dead already? Ew! 'Tis crawling towards us!”

“‘Tis only a ravenous undead beast that hungers for the flesh of the living.” I set it on fire once again, only this time I made the flame hot enough to burn flesh from bone leaving nothing but charred bones. I doubt ‘twould finish the undead, but ‘twould slow it down so that it could be dealt with later.

As I finished making sure the revenant would not be a threat for the time being, Sunny turned her attention to a nearby tree that sat at the water’s edge. “Wait a moment, was that tree there before?”

She was right, that tree had not been there before. I would have thought it some trick of the bog, but I realized the truth of it when I recognized the type of tree it was: a swamp fever tree. ‘Tis unique blue flowers with orange dots could hardly be mistaken for anything else. Given the tree had not been there before, I could well guess how it had suddenly gotten to its current location. That guess was confirmed when I saw an equine face within the bark of the tree.

Sunny gasped as she covered her mouth with her hooves. “Th-that tree—it has Penny’s face!”

“Aye, I am sorry to say that is thy friend.”

“No! Penny!” Sunny ran for the tree, but I grabbed her by the tail to stop her. All ‘twould take is for her to get some of the tree’s pollen on herself, and she would become infected with swamp fever just like her friend.

“Neigh!” I kept a hold of her with my magic despite her flailing. “There is nothing thou canst do for her. She is too far gone.”

“B-b-but...” She turned to me, tears running down her face. “She is my friend!”

“And now she is dangerous to thee.” Damnation, if only these ponies were not such fools. If I had gotten to her during our last meeting then I might have been able to do something for Penultimate. But then they had to go and falsely accuse me before setting half the bog on fire. Senseless.

Faced with the truth, Sunny slumped down to the ground and wept. Watching her sob, I could not help but feel pity for her. She had lost two friends already, and two more were lost out in the dreadful bog. I considered trying to comfort her, despite that never seeming to work whenever I had tried it in the past, but then something odd caught mine eye.

The cabin door was open when I could have sworn ‘twas closed when I left. Getting a sense of foreboding, I headed to the cabin to see what was transpiring. When I reached the doorway, I found Crimson kneeling by the trapdoor leading to the basement. He had already pushed the boulder off of the door, and he had used the rusty axe I had been using on the revenant earlier to break the thin chain holding the door closed.

Damnation, what foolishness was this stallion getting up to? I stomped a hoof, causing him to jerk in surprise. “Neigh! Stop this at once!”

Crimson nearly dropped the axe and he fumbled with it before regaining his grip. He held it aloft as though to strike me but he quivered terribly as he stared at me with wide eyes. “S-s-stay back! I have a weapon!”

I growled as my patience with this fool ran dry. “I am not thy foe! Now cease this madness at once, else thou wilt surely die!”

“Y-you cannot fool me,” he said through chattering teeth. “You blew Dirge up and then turned Penny into a tree! And now you have Sunny imprisoned in the basement.”

I opened my mouth to contradict him with the truth, but a voice sounding like Sunny echoed from the basement. “Help me, Crimson! ‘Tis wet and dirty down here, and I think I saw a rat.”

“Do not listen to that creature,” I told him. “That is not thy friend. Thou art being tricked by a foul monster.”

“You think I would fall for such an obvious lie!” Crimson gripped the trapdoor’s metal ring. “I am taking Sunny, and we are getting out of here! And you cannot stop us!”

The fool swung the trapdoor open, and not a moment later Sunny walked up to stand next to me by the door. She blinked at the sight of her friend. “Crimson, what art thou doing?”

Crimson frozen. “Sunny? But if thou art there...” He looked down into the dark depths of the basement. “Then who’s down—”

Tendrils, dark as night, struck out lightning quick and grabbed Crimson. They yanked him down into the basement, and before I could do anything, a wave of blood splashed over me and Sunny. Given the sheer amount of it, that was no doubt the end of Crimson Tunic.

I sighed in annoyance as I examined the viscera dripping off of me. “I warned him, and this was my favorite cloak. Now ‘twill likely stain from all this blood.”

Sunny shook in place, her friend’s lifesblood covering her, before she screamed and fled with all speed from the cabin. “Neigh, do not go running off. ‘Tis—”

I stopped speaking when a low, unequine chuckle resonated from the cabin. The chuckle grew into an uproarious laugh that shook the cabin. “Finally! It required that I manipulate these simpletons, but now I have fed and can free myself from this wretched prison!”

I let out a long sigh. “And now that fool has unleashed a horrifying ancient evil. How predictable.”

An unnatural black smoke started to waft through the floorboards, and a black icor wept from the walls. “I am Daggoth the Destroyer! Fear me, little pony. Kneel before me and swear thine allegiance, and I will let thee live.”

“I feel no such compulsion.”

There was a pause before this Daggoth replied with a deep growl. “So be it. Soon I will possess a vessel, and then thou wilt dearly regret thy defiance. All of Equestria shall quake in fear of the might of Daggoth!”

I lit my horn and prepared to cast defensive spells. “That strikes me as unlikely. What wilt thou do, make the whole kingdom damp and unpleasant?” I rolled my hoof to signal for him to get on with it. “Come on then, regale me with the no doubt exhaustive list of the horrors thou wilt unleash.”

I had seen and heard enough incidents like this to know that this spirit would wish to speak endlessly of its plans. I intended to use that time to work on a plan to deal with it.

A deep chuckle shook the cabin, and the dark mist started to flow around me. “I will—wait, art thou mocking me?!”

“Neigh, I have merely met enough villains such as thyself to know how this goes,” I said. “In my experience, all of you enjoy the sound of your own voices and lording your supposed superiority over others.”

Daggoth guttural growl rocked the cabin. “Thou wilt regret thy insolence, and—”

“Yes yes, and no doubt inflict a thousand tortures on me, and so on and so forth.” I rolled my eyes. “I have heard it all before.”

“See if thou art laughing once I have gained my full power!” At that, the mist flew past me and out into the dark fog beyond. I was now alone, with neither the spirit or Sunny within sight.

I looked around, making sure that Daggoth was indeed gone and not playing some sort of trick upon me. “How unexpected. I had expected he would attack me, not go fleeing into the wretched bog.”

Whatever this evil spirit was planning, I needed to stop it and save Sunny and her foolish friends. Or what was left of them, in any event. I could already tell this was going to be a long night.

I was covered in wretched filth. There seemed not a spot on me that did not have mud, soot, or blood on it. I imagined that the bog would be terrible to experience, but the truth had been even worse than I imagined. Things had only been made worse by the fools I had been made to tolerate. Despite all my warnings and attempts to help them, three of them had gotten themselves killed, and now they had released the spirit calling himself Daggoth.

Admittedly, everything was not their fault. Daggoth had been using his powers to provoke the evils of the bog into action, and I suspected that he was befuddling their minds as well. Likely I was dealing with some form of demon. That would explain the abilities I had seen thus far. Daggoth seemed to have great power in the bog, little surprise when ‘twas an evil place. Even the Great Unkindness was being confounded by Daggoth’s magic. Though I instructed them to keep close to me, I now found myself alone as I trudged through the bog. The ravens were not perfidious creatures, so their absence had to be due to an outside factor. Little wonder Archmagus Mossy Banks was so concerned about this threat. His considerable magical power was intensively tied to the bog, and the demon’s corrupting influence was of particular danger to him.

Though from the sound of things, Daggoth’s primary objective was to gain a vessel for himself so that he could cause yet more death and destruction. At first I worried he had designs on me for that purpose and would aim to possess me. But then he had escaped out into the bog. That no doubt meant he had other plans, which meant I had limited time to stop him.

I now had two goals: save the remaining foolish ponies and stop Daggoth. Pity then that I did not know where any of them were. Matters were not helped that the bog was nearly impenetrable ‘tween the fog, darkness, and other natural hazards. Good thing I had taken some precautions in the event Sunny left my company. With a lock of her hair, I could follow her with a tracking spell.

Some time after I began my pursuit, I began to hear Sunny and Gloom’s voices. Though the nighttime bog played with sounds, and for some minutes I could not tell exactly where their voices were coming from or what they were saying, but in time I could tell that they were arguing, and the words of their disagreement became understandable to me.

“Ow! Gloom! Stop pulling so hard on me! My leg is hurt!”

“We need to keep running! The Bog Witch is on our trail, we have no time to dally!”

“Gloom, where are we going?! Just answer me!”

Gloom’s huffs from being out of breath echoed through the fog. “There is no time. Just trust me. I got a dream from my grandmother, and—”

“Thy grandmother has been dead for years, Gloom!”

“I know, I know! But she was a magus, and they, um, they can visit you in dreams after you are dead, right? That sounds like something a magus can do, and she told me in my dream how to beat the Bog Witch.”

Such a thing was not unheard of, but extremely rare. More than likely, such a dream was the misdirection of some spirit. That did not even get into the threat from beings such as Nightmare Moon. Neigh, given the circumstances, I had my suspicions.

I stumbled my way into a clearing in the bog, and for once the fog lifted just a bit to allow me to see further than a couple paces away. In the center of the clearing was a stone the size of a wagon, a jutting thing that was like a dagger pointed out of the ground at an angle. Arcane sigils were carved into its surface, though time had seen moss grow on the stone.

Gloom and Sunny were standing next to the stone. Gloom brandished a knife and pricked his lover with it.

Sunny jerked away from him. “Ow! Gloom?! Why didst thou do that?!”

Gloom grimaced. “Sorry! Just trust me, okay. Everything will be okay.” He pricked himself with the dagger so that both of their blood was on it. “Ow! Okay, that hurt more than I intended. Ow...”

“Do not trust that fool!” I stomped my way toward them, though the effect was somewhat ruined when one of my hooves fell right into an unexpectedly deep mud puddle. I growled and yanked my leg out of the sucking mud. “Stop this at once, or thou shalt surely die!”

Gloom screamed in a manner unbecoming of a stallion and fell back against the stone. “S-stay back, Bog Witch! You have no power here! S-something bad will happen to you if you try and attack us!”

I shook the fresh mud from my leg with an irritated flick and then continued my advance. “Fool! I am not thy foe!”

Sunny stomped a hoof. “She's trying to help, Gloom!”

Gloom froze in place. “What?”

I closed the distance ‘tween us and faced the pitiful fool. “I am a Magus, and if thou dost not stay thy current course 'twill be thy doom!”

Gloom digested this information. “Really?”

“Yes!” Sunny cried out. “That is what I have been trying to tell thee as thou havest dragged me halfway across the bog!”

Gloom’s gaze shifted ‘tween us. “B-but she blew up Dirge, turned Penny into a tree, and she splattered Crimson. I saw all that blood gushing out of the cabin!”

Sunny groaned as she rubbed her brow. “Dirge’s torch lit some swamp gas, and there are trees here that can cause you to turn into them. Crimson, um...”

She looked to me to explain, “Was devoured by a demon that was trapped in the basement—one he foolishly released despite my warnings. Really, if thou hadst listened to me from the start and not gone into the bog then none of thee would have died. At least within the bog. Given how foolish all of thee art, I cannot be responsible for all thy stupid decisions.”

Gloom’s jaw worked wordlessly for a minute before his shoulders slumped. “I think I need to sit down.”

He all but collapsed to the ground and dropped the knife. It clattered against the glyph-covered stone, and the blood upon it smeared onto the rock. Absorbing the transfusion of blood, the glyphs started glowing red. Red crackling energy struck Gloom and he let out a primeval scream.

Sunny reached out a hoof to her lover. “Gloom, nooo!”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Evidently, the whole world was out to irritate me now. Could I not have one normal conversation with these fools?

Gloom twitched and convulsed frantically as the red lightning crackled through him. The ground beneath him shifted, and the very muddy earth started crawling up his legs. Tendrils consisting of mud, algae, and plants flowed to Gloom and covered him in the foul stuff of the bog. Sunny reached for Gloom, trying to pull him out of the growing foul mass, but only got herself sucked under the tide of mud. I backed up as the mound grew and grew until it towered over me. Then it started morphing, shaping itself so that it had arms and something vaguely reminiscent of a face. On the top of its head was a crown of branches, and up and down its body boils formed and burst, releasing small gouts of stinking water and gas.

‘Twas a disgusting mass of everything that I despised in this bog. This was some strange possession, no doubt, and I had a good idea what foul creature was responsible for this.

It turned its head to stare down at me, and a wide grin of bark and stones spread. “Finally! My plans have come to fruition, and I now have the vessel I require. Soon the power of this bog will all be mine, and then... All of Equestria shall fear me, Daggoth!”

I scowled up at the demon. “I doubt that. Also the ‘the power of the bog’ sounds pathetic. Dost thou hear thine own words?”

Daggoth’s eyes narrowed, and a putrid yellow sap leaked from its eyes. “Dost thou mock me?”

“I speak the truth,” I said. “I can hardly see Mother or Shadow fearing thee, much less Princess Celestia.”

Hands of clay and mud flicked, flicking spittles of muck about. “They will learn the errors of their way soon enough. They will kowtow to Daggoth. My power is unfathomable, my dominions unimaginable—I am what ponies see in their darkest nightmares!”

I lit my horn and prepared to defend myself. “I know what gives me nightmares. Thou art not it.”

Daggoth roared, and muddy splittle splashed over me. “I will make thee pay for thy insolence!”

“Unlikely.” I flicked some of the fresh mud off my chest, though by this point I was so filthy that it hardly did anything. “What could some minor wight like you hope to achieve?”

“I will crush thee!” Daggoth charged me, feeling like a muddy mountain was intending to run me over.

I threw up a wall of ice in front of him, and he slammed into it. With a great crack, the ice shattered, setting chunks of ice flying about the bog, but the demon’s momentum had been temporarily stalled.

I gathered the deep shadows of the bog, with all its trees, shrubs, and holes creating darkness, and drew it around me as though I were manipulating pools of water. I threw the mass of shadow forward as several great lances. They punched right into the demon, creating large holes in its body, and sent the mass of mud staggering back.

“Fool! Dost thou thinkest that such trifles will stop Daggoth?!” The demon drew yet more mass from the bog, repairing the damage I had done. “Foolish Magus, I will be thy doom once I—”

“My doom? My doom?!” A snort escaped my lips as a giggle developed in my chest. The pressure of all the terrible ordeals I had been forced to endure became too much, and I exploded in a great cackle. I laughed and laughed, unable to control myself, and Daggoth shifted back. Eventually, I managed to speak again through bursts of cackling. “I have suffered through this miserably, muddy, damp, dirty, unpleasant, insect-infested swamp since long before I knew that thou e'en existed! I have been forced to endure the company of ungrateful children, and watch them run to their doom despite my very clear warnings of their fate if they did not stay their course. See the ruined state of my favorite cloak, my new hat, and the mask I love so dearly?! My doom? Neigh. Thou art merely an unfortunate speck of an insignificant being who had the misfortune to cross my path at the very moment my fury reached its peak!”

I stalked toward Daggoth, and he backed away from me. “I may have made a mistake.”

I smiled widely as I drew in the full measure of my power, and the demon quivered. “Aye, now accept thy defeat with grace.”

I harnessed all my hate, my loathing of the bog. Before me was a concentration of everything I despised—the very manifestation of the filth and malevolent intelligence that had made my existence in this foul bog so awful. I use those baleful feelings to build my next spell. Shadows with a dark blue aura gathered around me. Crackles echoed about me as the ground started to freeze beneath me, and frost formed on the trees around the clearing.

I unleashed the power I had gathered. The wave of shadowy blue energy struck Daggoth, simultaneously freezing his body and shattering him. Frozen chunks of dirt fell to the ground to shatter to yet smaller pieces. The magic parted upon Daggoth’s body, continuing into the bog where it froze the trees behind them. It covered the trees with ice and inflicted such a terrible cold upon them that many of them burst and splintered. Indeed, the magic had been potent enough to freeze many of the trees surrounding the clearing, and the shadows seemed all the deeper. All the while, Daggoth screamed an unearthly wail as his vessel was destroyed and his spirit was cast back into whatever foul pit it had come from.

‘Twas a satisfying experience.

I stepped forward, my deep breaths misting in the unnaturally frigid air. When I was before one of the larger chunks of ice, I sent yet more magic into it to carefully shatter it. Sunny and Gloom fell to the ground. They shivered terribly, blinking in confusion as their gazes swept over the frozen devastation.

“W-what happened?” Sunny asked as she tried to rub warmth into her shoulders.

Gloom blinked dully as he tried to contemplate what had transpired. “We are alive?”

I nodded. “Aye, despite thy vast incompetence, thou yet live, and the demon has been banished. With any luck, and assuming thou art done making matters worse than they need be, the danger has passed.”

“Oh, good.” Gloom collapsed against Sunny, wrapping a leg around her shoulders. “I think I have had enough excitement for one night.”

“So have I.” Sunny smiled and took his hoof. “And I know exactly what saved us from that demon!”

Gloom smiled and squeezed her hoof? “Oh yeah?”

“Indeed I do,” Sunny said. I puffed out my chest, ready to receive the well deserved praise I had earned for saving their lives. “Our love! It must have been the magic of love that banished the demon!”

Gloom’s lips spread in a joyous smile. “Thou art right! My how blessed we are!”

I blinked several times, scarcely being able to believe mine ears. “What? No! Dost thou not see when I...” But for all my protestations, the couple ignored me as they embraced one another and kissed.

I sighed with great exasperation. What fools must I endure?

Author's Note

Thanks to my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie for all their help, and to my pre-readers Brony Writer, wolfstorm56, Trinary, 621Chopsuey, Rodinga, and PoisonClaw for their hard work editing.

Epilogue

Now that the demon Daggoth had been banished back to whatever foul hole from whence he had crawled, I journeyed back to Mossy Banks’ home. All the time, I never allowed Sunny or Gloom to leave my side. Knowing the fools, they would somehow manage to get themselves killed if I let them out of my sight for but a moment. Not that they did not nearly die repeatedly all along the trip; Gloom’s inability to tell the difference between a vine and a snake was of particular irritation, and Sunny’s lack of knowledge of herbcraft resulted in an unfortunate encounter with poison ivy.

Still, I did manage to get them to safety alive and only suffering mild damage from the various toxins afflicting them. Considering what I was forced to deal with, I considered that a victory. Unfortunately, I was still covered in mud and muck. That in addition to the many indignities I had been forced to suffer did not improve my mood. Defeating Daggoth had improved my mood a bit, but it did not change the fact that I was still in the accursed bog.

Archmagus Mossy Banks was sitting on his porch and was working his way through a bag of sunflower seeds. I instructed the fools, in the most simple and straightforward way I could manage, to stay where they were before approaching the Archmagus. He raised an eyebrow as I dropped a large chest on the porch, my breath coming in short gasps.

“Magus, I am surprised to see thee back so soon,” he said. “What news dost thou bring?”

I grunted. “I have banished an elder demon and saved two fools from certain death.” Under my breath, I growled, “Not that they gave me any credit for it.”

Mossy Banks chewed on some more sunflower seeds before replying. “Sounds like thou hast quite the story. Thou better give me the full of it, then.” He flicked a hoof at a chair. “Have a seat, I will fetch some cider shortly. It seems thou couldst use a drink.”

I pulled up a chair as the Archmagus gave instructions to a servant. “I warn you, 'tis not a pleasant tale.”

“I am an archmagus, and have seen a great many unpleasant things in my days besides,” Mossy Banks said. “Do not spare me.”

I took a deep breath, and unleashed a long, and spirited retelling of all the indignities, idiocy, inconveniences, ill-bred imbeciles, indecency, ignorance, and irritations I had been forced to endure. By the time I was done, my breaths were coming in long gasps.

Mossy Banks stroked his long beard as he contemplated my tale. “Thou hast been through quite the difficult ordeal the past few days. Admittedly, I had not expected things to become quite so ... onerous.”

“How could you not expect it when we were in that foulest and most horrible of climes, a veritable swamp of mud, muck, and evil?!” I all but screamed.

The corner of the Archmagus’ mouth quirked. “So I take it thou hast not learned of the wonder and majesty of the bog, then?”

“‘Wonder’? ‘Majesty’?!” I spat incredulously. “I loathe this damnable swamp far more than I e'er thought possible, and I truly despised swamplands before e'er setting foot in this place! Were it possible, I would burn this entire swamp to the waterline, drain all the water from it, and then burn it once more!”

Mossy Banks shrugged. “That is thine opinion. This is my home, and until the end of my days, it always will be. Admittedly, the bog is not for everypony.” He glanced the way of the fools. “And I daresay, some ponies should probably avoid it.”

I slammed a hoof against the porch. “No sane pony could love this place!”

The Archmagus grinned. “Art thou saying I am insane?”

I grimaced as I found myself accidentally insulting the Archmagus. My mind thought quickly about how to correct my course. “No, but your preference for swampland seems so to me.”

“I see.” He sat back in his chair. “Though I would say the same about Canterlot. Never could stand the stuffy ponies of that place. Present company excluded.”

I tilted my head to the side. “But Canterlot is not dirty.”

The Archmagus rubbed his brow as he shook his head. “In any event, I can give thee some good news: thy time in my bog is coming to an end.”

“I ... I may leave?” Hearing that was such a great relief, that I worried that it might not really be true. This trip had been nothing but a source of misery for me.

“Thou hast completed the task I have given thee, so yes,” Mossy Banks scooped another mouthful of seeds into his mouth. “Thou didst banish the daemon, and with him gone ‘twill be a far easier task to continue my work of purging the bog of corruption.”

A huge, relieved smile spread across my face. “That is good to hear, Archmagus. Even if I must be honest, the spirit in question was not a particularly powerful or impressive daemon.”

“It still needed to be dealt with,” Mossy said. “And thy saving of those two is—”

He stopped speaking when the chest moved a couple of inches as something bumped inside of it. “And I take it that is our dear revenant?”

“That is so.” I frowned down at the chest. “It has been quite stubborn about staying dead.”

The Archmagus grunted as he stood up. “Then it seems we have one more task to complete before thy departure.”

I sighed, my skin crawling as I looked at the filth covering me. “And I have a feeling this will take quite some time.”

Some days later, I finally got to return home. As predicted, finally finishing off the revenant proved to be a difficult task, but finish it we did. Getting to visit the public baths was a great relief to me, and I nearly felt normal again when I returned to the tower. Though I did not know why everypony acted so strangely as I walked down Canterlot’s streets. The only thing different about me was that I was wearing Mossy Banks’ wonderful mask. Mayhaps they sensed the dirt and mud that had been covering me?

I found Mother, and seeing that she was busy writing at her desk, I stood directly behind her to wait for her to finish her work. ‘Twould not do to interrupt her when she was working when my business was not urgent.

A couple minutes later, Mother stopped writing to address me. “Midnight, how was thy journey to the—” She turned around and stopped speaking as her eyes widened. “That is new.”

I ran a hoof down the raven mask. “'Tis a gift Archmagus Mossy Banks gave me,” I told her with utmost seriousness. "I love it.”

Mother stared at me for several moments. “It suits thee.”

I nodded. “I think so as well.”

Mother stood and stretched her back. “And how was the rest of thine adventure?”

I huffed. “The worst experience of my life, Mother. I do not even wish to describe it, ‘twas so terrible. But I will recount my tale in full so that you will know the full horror of what I experienced.”

I told her the entire tale of the mud, dirt, foolish ponies, and indignities I had been forced to endure. By the time I was done, Mother had pulled out a glass and poured herself a drink. “It seems thou wert triumphant, howe’er much thou didst not enjoy the experience.”

“Naturally, I dared not return without being able to report success,” I said. “Likely you would have exiled me to the bog if I had done otherwise. That would be intolerable.”

Mother sighed and shook her head. “Then ‘tis best thou didst succeed.”

“Indeed, for I know not what I would have done.” I hummed to myself as I considered the terrible possibilities. “I think I would have burned down the entire bog and cast indescribable curses upon the land so that ‘twould stand as nothing more than a desolate wasteland in which nothing could live ever again for all time.”

“I suspect that would have upset Mossy Banks,” Mother said with a dry smile.

I tossed my mane. “'Twould have been an improvement to the bog, I assure you.”

“I doubt Mossy would have agreed, and 'tis his bog.”

I snorted, still finding it difficult to believe anypony would subject themselves to living in a bog. “Well, I did not annihilate his bog. This time. So the matter is moot.”

“So it is.” Mother took a sip of her drink. “Though do be respectful of his swamp should you e'er be forced to return there.”

I shivered. “I would beg of thee that thou wouldst never do such a thing to me again. One trip was more than enough.”

Mother shrugged. “We go where our duties take us. Equestria is far more important than thy personal preferences.”

I rolled my eyes. “So I am aware. You have told me this before, and I have hardly forgotten.” Not wishing to belabor the point, I changed the subject. “And now that I have returned, I can go back to concentrating on discovering what foul schemes the Perfidious Filly has for the world. Have you any progress on the matter in mine absence?”

Mother let out a long breath and started straightening her papers. “Aye, there are no schemes of any sort. She is naught but an ordinary child with a slight penchant for mischief.”

It took me a moment to believe that I had heard correctly. “That is not true. She is pure evil, I swear it. She must have deceived you.”

Mother scoffed at the suggestion. “I think the Archmagus of Canterlot is cannier than a child.”

“This is not a normal child.” I stepped up next to her as I pleaded. “She is devious beyond measure. If you would merely examine the evidence I had gathered, you would see that.”

Mother ran a hoof through her mane. “I reviewed what thou hast gathered and found no value in it, so I destroyed all of it. I am not in the habit of wasting space, and thou didst waste much.”

I took a step back from her. “You ... destroyed it? All my precious boards and evidence?”

“I salvaged everything of use, naturally,” Mother said. “Put the materials to better use next time.”

I ran to my room to see what damage had been done. The blackboard remained, clean my notes, and I saw some leftover string... but of my great work, there was nothing. I would be starting from scratch.

I stared at the damage that had been done, hardly being able to believe mine eyes. Mother came in a minute after me, a frown on her face. “I had hoped that addressing a real problem would put this child from thy mind, Midnight.”

“But this is a real problem,” I insisted.

Mother sighed and patted my back. “This child is not great or evil. She is a child, creative and impetuous in her mischief. Nothing more. Now let this be the end of it.”

“Very well, Mother,” I grumbled. I knew when Mother had made her mind up on a topic, and once she had done so ‘twould be nearly impossible to persuade her otherwise. “I suppose ... I shall find other things to preoccupy me.”

“Good,” Mother said. “I will leave thee to settle back in and recover from thy trip. Dinner will be in an hour. I had one of your favorites prepared.”

I sighed. “Thank you, Mother, I will be ready for dinner.”

Mother nodded and then hugged me. I returned the hug, and she departed to return to her work. I may have been set back in convincing everyone that the Perfidious Filly was evil, but I was not defeated—not yet. My work would need to be continued in secret, but that was manageable. I could bear that burden as long as it kept me out of the bog and away from foolish ponies. The work to save Equestria was not something that could be done in a day, in any event.

One day I would show them, I would show them all.

Author's Note

Thanks to my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie for all their help, and to my pre-readers Brony Writer, wolfstorm56, Trinary, 621Chopsuey, Rodinga, and PoisonClaw for their hard work editing.