The Many Lives of Stygian

by _Moonshot

Rating: teen
Tags: Suicide / Self Harm, Tragedy, Stygian, Violence, Death, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Philomena
Length: 4451

Stygian learns what it means to sacrifice for the greater good.

Stygian learns what it means to sacrifice for the greater good.

An entry in the May 2020 Pairing Contest.

Thanks to Wishcometrue for editing.

Published 2020-06-01 06:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-06-01 06:40:01 UTC

To Be Born

“Stygian,” said Starswirl. “You still have it in you, you know.”

Stygian slotted another book into the top row of his bookshelf. Deftly, he climbed down the ladder holding him and turned toward Starswirl. “I’m sorry?”

“The Pony of Shadows,” responded Starswirl. “I don’t know quite how, but a sliver of it remains in you, despite the banishment. I can feel it with my magic.”

Stygian felt his stomach twist a little. “You mean… I-I could still become the Pony of Shadows? Is there some way I could get rid of this… sliver?”

Starswirl sighed. Slowly, he eased himself out of his chair, setting the cup of tea lightly on the nearby table and walking over to Stygian. “I’m afraid I have no answers to either of your questions. But I can send a letter to Celestia and see if she’s got any answers of her own. I’m sure she’d have plenty of time to help, given her retirement.”

Stygian looked down, cautiously rubbing his chest. “I suppose, but—” He flinched as Starswirl reached up and set a gentle hoof on his shoulder.

“Stygian, if this sliver of the Pony of Shadows felt a need to take control of you again, would you let it?” he asked, looking earnestly.

Stygian pressed his lips together and frowned. “I… no. But if the spirit—”

“Then that’s that,” said Starswirl, smiling. He gently patted Stygian twice. “You’re your own pony now. And if there’s anyone who can believe in your strength now, it’s me. As a friend.”

“I… no, you’re right. Thank you.” Stygian smiled back and pulled Starswirl into an embrace. “Thanks for stopping by to visit me today.”

Stygian quickly opened the door and waved at the departing mailpony. In front of him sat a rectangular container covered with opaque cloth, from which odd noises seemed to emanate. There was a letter on top with a royal seal, likely from Celestia. Stygian carefully opened the envelope and withdrew the letter.

Dear Stygian, it read. I heard about your problem from Starswirl, and I’ve enclosed a bit of a gift. Perhaps she could pose as a mentor of sorts. Yours Truly, Celestia.

Stygian furrowed his brows. Well, Celestia was known to be cryptic to her students. He took the somewhat weighty container inside and set it on the table. Then, he removed the cloth and gasped.

It was a bird cage. Philomena, Celestia’s phoenix, perched inside, peering at Stygian intently.

Stygian narrowed his eyes. What in Equestria did Celestia mean by this? Perhaps she had misunderstood his situation. What if it was a deliberate prank? Would Celestia do that? Even with the Pony of Shadows still—

A loud caw broke Stygian from his thoughts. From within her cage, Philomena ruffled her feathers, eyes narrowed as if asking to be let out.

Stygian stared at her for a while, tilting his head. Then he shrugged, unhinging the latch and opening the cage door. Philomena cawed again, but softer, stepping out from the cage and flying onto Stygian’s shoulder.

He exhaled softly, grinning as she tilted her head forward and gave his mane a quick nuzzle. He didn’t know what to do with her now, but he hoped he would in due time. Spirits lifted, he decided to go for a walk.

To Die

Stygian squinted against the harsh rays of the sun. It was bright, maybe too bright, but it was a beautiful day nonetheless. As Philomena perched on his shoulder, he idly hummed to himself, stepping outside and locking the door behind himself.

He squinted in the distance, making out the farmer’s market where ponies bustled around, shoppers chatting with vendors as they bought their week’s groceries. Stygian headed toward them.

Along the way, he felt the eyes of passersby. He shrugged it off, reaching up to give Philomena a quick pat. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Ponies around here are used to this by now. In fact, this is probably a welcome sight, given all the chaos that happened while Princess Twilight was around.” That was more than true—ponies knew about Stygian’s past, but they also knew that he helped when he could, volunteering to help those in town in need.

Philomena chirped in response, shifting her weight. A moment later, her eyes narrowed and she began looking around.

At the same time, Stygian felt something twinge inside his gut, like an uncomfortable weight. He turned his head to the left and felt a sudden need to travel down the pathway that stretched out.

So, he did. As Philomena continued to turn her head back and forth, he altered his route, walking slowly, then quickly down the well-trodden road as the weight in his gut increased. It pulled harder and harder, until he began to sweat and his breath became short.

He smelled smoke and looked up. There, in the distance, a building was burning.

Stygian broke into a trot, then a gallop, charging toward the raging flame. Somewhere along the way, Philomena flew off his shoulder with an indignant squawk, but he paid it no mind. As the building came into focus, Stygian coughed at the acrid fumes, gazing with wide eyes as the fire flickered and roared in the wind, an enraged monster relentlessly assaulting the wooden structure.

Heart pounding, he stopped at the front, approaching the panicked mare standing there. “Miss, has the fire department been called? Is—”

“Y-yes!” she cried. “Th-there’s ponies in that building! Two of ‘em: my sister and—”

Before he even realized it, Stygian pounded through the door, avoiding the searing flames that ravaged inside. In the smoke, he made out a shape and charged relentlessly toward it. “Quick, I’ll guide you out of here,” he wheezed. “The path to the entrance is safe; I’ll cover you. Stay low to the ground so you don’t inhale the smoke.”

The mare nodded with worried eyes, wordlessly following after him. Gritting his teeth, Stygian shuffled as fast as he could while crouching, ignoring the roaring and the heat and the crashing of wooden beams collapsing above him.

They reached the door and both ponies lept out, gasping for air. The mare outside quickly ran to her sister, then turned again to Stygian. “Th-th-there’s my son still on the second floor! My baby!”

Stygian nodded quickly and charged back inside. He located the stairs and began to climb, before howling in pain. He clutched at his hoof that had been burned from the scorching ground.

He grit his teeth and yelled at the top of his lungs, sprinting up the stairs, burning be damned. At the end of the hallway was a foal’s bedroom, presumably the son’s. He crossed the hallway, threw the door open, and gasped.

The colt was standing at the corner of his bed, mouth open and paralyzed in shock. Around him, the unremitting fire burned, spitting angry flames in every direction.

Tears formed and evaporated in Stygian’s eyes as he ran as close as he could. “You gotta jump, kid!” he called, enduring the pain. “It’s the only way. I’ll catch you, I promise.”

The colt shook his head no, but another burst of fire changed his mind. He leapt into Stygian’s waiting hooves. Together, they ran for the hallway, keeping low, Stygian leading the way.

From the ceiling, there was a crack. Stygian looked up too late to see the collapsing rafters. As they landed on him, he wheezed, all air escaping his lungs.

Beside him, the colt stood paralyzed again. “Get out of here, now!” screamed Stygian. “I’ll… I’ll catch up to you, okay?” As the colt turned away and ran, Stygian struggled against the heavy wood to no avail. Slowly, painfully, the fire began to creep toward him.

And as he pleaded for somepony to come to his aid, the fire reached him. He screamed in agony as it spread to his tail, then his withers, then his entire body. As it consumed him, he looked up at the newly exposed ceiling, reaching for the light. The sounds began to fade into a dull throb as his vision became blurred, and he fell with an echoing thud to the ground.

To Be Born Again

In the first few moments of Stygian’s death, he was met by pure darkness.

He stared into the infinite abyss, searching for any sign of movement. There was a hissing that echoed all around him, like the sound of pressurized air released from a tight container.

Then, the abyss stared back.

Two giant, bright white eyes materialized in front of him, gazing at him intently. There was a moment of silence as they both stared at each other unblinkingly. From every direction, Stygian heard a booming, echoing voice.

“Well, this is… quite the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Stygian could recognize that voice from anywhere. “The Pony of Shadows,” he growled, shrinking into a defensive posture. “What are you doing here.”

“Oh, nothing,” the Pony of Shadows crooned, his voice sickly sweet and cloying. “Just paying you a visit, now that you’re, well, dead. That’s quite a shame, isn’t it? Quite. A. Shame.”

“Get out of here,” said Stygian. “If—if I’m dead, then leave me be. I have nothing I can provide you, and nothing I’d give you anyway.”

“That’s not quite true,” replied the spirit, his voice even more saccharine than before. “You see—” An image of the building appeared in the void, firefighters quenching the flames and charging inside. “I can offer you another chance at life, if you’d like. Provided a few terms and conditions, of course.”

Stygian waved a weak hoof. “No. I’m dead, and that’s that. I’m never letting you control me again, so you can hurt the ponies that I care about.

“Why not?” the spirit intoned. “After all, I hold so much power.” At the last word, the hissing grew to an incessant screech, causing Stygian to scramble back.

But he recalled Starswirl’s confident hoof on his shoulder, the words of belief he’d given. “No. You’re just a sliver. I’m not letting you win, and—”

From afar, there came a piercing cry.

Both Stygian and the Pony of Shadows turned toward the source of the noise. Stygian’s eyes widened in shock. In the distance, Philomena was accelerating relentlessly toward them.

He recalled Celestia’s letter, and it dawned on him. “You don’t control me, spirit. I let you once, and that was my greatest mistake.”

With a great flap of her wings, Philomena was back on his shoulder. He looked at her and nodded, courage filling his heart. “You don’t control me. But I’ll learn to control you.”

Philomena looked back, eyes blazing, and returned the nod. Then she screeched and spread her wings and concentrated, and flapped. Her fire intensified and flew in every direction. It spread to Stygian’s body, but he no longer felt pain. It spread to the void around him, the black slowly morphing into a raging mix of oranges, reds, and yellows. It spread to the Pony of Shadows, who cried out in agony. “No, no, no!”

As the fire consumed the void, there was a blinding flash of light, and the world went white.

When he came to, he was lying on the ground in a pile of rubble. The flames around him had died to embers.

Leaping to his feet, he quickly raised his hooves, then looked at his entire body with a look of disbelief.

Nothing was hurting. There were no burn marks, or scars, or wounds, or anything.

He spun around as a soft chirp sounded behind him. Philomena was perched on a collapsed rafter, staring up at him.

“Wh-what happened?” he asked, the words slipping out of his numbed mouth.

Philomena hopped in place excitedly, chirping a happy tune. She pointed a wing at him, then at herself.

Stygian checked himself once more. “Yo-you’re saying that I’m a phoenix now?” A nod. “That’s…” Stygian breathed. “That’s unbelievable.”

The sound of yelling from the first floor brought him fully back into reality. Shaking himself out of stupor, Stygian ran to the stairs and walked down. He ignored the looks of shock the firefighters gave him. “I’m okay, thanks.” He stepped out the door.

It was a beautiful day. Outside the smoldering house, ponies walked by in trepidation, glancing nervously at its remains.

As Stygian prepared to head home, something caught his eye. There was a thin strand of fire pointing away, a barely visible string of flickering light.

He didn’t know what it meant, or where it led to, but he decided to follow it.

To Repeat

As Stygian followed the thin trail of fire, Philomena again perched on his shoulder, the large crowds of ponies began to thin out.

Slowly, groups of eight became groups of four, then groups of two, then lone ponies wandering in the approaching dusk. None seemed to notice the same trail Stygian did.

Eventually, Stygian looked up and hesitated. It seemed that the string was leading him into the Everfree Forest. Swallowing slowly, he readied himself and headed in.

“Let’s look out for each other, okay?” said Stygian.

Philomena cawed out something that sounded like affirmation.

Stygian cut through the underbrush, solely focusing his vision on the thread in front of him. He ignored the warbling and creaking around him.

In the distance, there was a screech.

Abandoning all caution, Stygian took off. “You fly ahead of me, Philomena. Go, go, go!” She complied, flapping her wings and taking off at maximum speed. Stygian watched as she weaved in between the trees and chased after her. It seemed he was still heading along the path that the thread had outlined for him.

Finally, he reached a clearing and exhaled sharply. There was an Ursa Minor, roaring and swiping its paws at Philomena, who was bending and swooping around it.

Near the two, a filly crouched behind a tree stump, her eyes filled with tears. Without a second thought, Stygian crossed the distance to her. “Hey, you’ve got to get out of here.” He gestured in the direction he came from. “Follow that path straight, and you’ll get back to Ponyville. We’ll take it from here.”

The filly nodded quickly and scampered away. The Ursa Minor paused its feud with Philomena to watch. Enraged, it turned its anger back on Philomena and Stygian, its roar shaking the trees surrounding it.

Stygian rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the bear’s paw hitting the ground. “Buck, buck, buck!” he called. “Aren’t Ursa Minors supposed to be dormant this time of year?”

Philomena cried something back that sounded vaguely like an ‘I don’t know,’ before flying out of the way from another swinging paw.

Stygian growled. “Well, whatever the reason, we’ve got to somehow—”

For the second time that day, Stygian wheezed as the air was pushed out from his lungs. He felt the bones in his body crunch sickeningly as the Ursa Minor’s paw made contact, and his vision went black.

But a few seconds later, he was back, fully healed, gasping for air. He saw the remnants of a fireball evaporating around him as the Ursa Minor withdrew its burnt paw and sent another bellowing roar through the forest.

His mind raced. “Philomena!” he shouted. “I’ve got a plan. Can you bait the Ursa as low as possible?”

From the sky, Philomena chirped a hasty ‘yes.’ She fanned, sending a couple flames at the bear, who roared again and snapped at her. She dove toward the earth in a circle as it chased after her. Stygian raced behind them.

As Philomena seemed destined to collide with the dirt, she flapped again and swooped high into the sky. Just before the Ursa Minor, head low to the ground, looked up in confusion, Stygian braced himself. Then he sprung off the ground as far as his hooves could propel him and jumped into the bear’s mouth.

Crunch.

Stygian felt the world explode around him. He screamed and screamed, writhing wildly before his vision went black again.

When he came to, he was falling back toward the ground. The Ursa Minor yowled, clutching its snout in pain. As Philomena came to a rest beside Stygian, the bear glared at them indignantly before turning tail and lumbering away into the depths of the Everfree.

Stygian took time to catch his breath. Panting, he looked at Philomena with a crooked smile. “If you were a pony, I would scoop you up and hug you. That… that worked!”

Philomena cocked her head and gave him a stone-faced look, as if to express how stupid she thought Stygian’s plan was and he was lucky it went alright.

Stygian’s grin grew wider, and he gave a staggering laugh. “Come on, don’t make that face. I’m tired, but… I feel alive. I am alive.” He looked toward the setting sun. “Celestia wanted this all along, didn’t she? She saw… she saw my destiny.”

Philomena nodded enthusiastically. She turned her head back toward the town.

Stygian’s breath caught in his lungs. There were more thin, fiery threads now. They fanned outward, pointing surgically like a line of arrows.

That meant more ponies that needed saving. So Stygian picked one and followed it.

To Save

This time, as Stygian followed the thread, he ran without hesitation.

Philomena flew directly above him, letting out an encouraging chirp here and there. Together, they sprinted toward the center of town, ignoring the looks from the few ponies that remained.

They quickened their pace as they heard more screams. They rounded one corner, then another, and saw the source of chaos.

Ponies screamed and scattered in every direction. Shattered glass lay on the ground in front of a broken storefront window. Inside, a stallion fired beams of neon-green magic seemingly at random, destroying the shelves and merchandise.

Stygian lowered his stance and bared his teeth. “Let’s do this.”

As Philomena let out an ear-piercing screech, he charged at the pony, who fired pinpoint blasts of energy at him. One connected, piercing a hole through his abdomen. A second later, he was back on his hooves, the wound repaired. Another obliterated his chest, and yet again his vision only darkened briefly before he stumbled back up and continued to charge, a brief burst of flame left in his wake.

The stallion inside began to grow desperate, firing off beam after beam. Regardless, Stygian grew closer, his eyes burning with uncontained fury. As he lept, swearing to burn the stallion with his next blast, Philomena screeched again.

‘Wait!’

She positioned herself in between the two. A stray beam of magic hit her, and she squawked, collapsing to the ground in a pile of ash. Stygian screamed and dove toward the pile, but in a blink, she was back as well, perfectly fine, though losing a few feathers. She gestured toward the stunned pony and cawed something that sounded like ‘look.’

So Stygian did. As his breathing slowed down, he saw the amulet wrapped tightly around his neck and the matching neon-green aura around his eyes. He saw a crazed look of sorrow, sore redness on the stallion’s face, as if from a week of mourning.

“The amulet,” said Stygian. He recalled similar amulets he’d faced a thousand years ago with Starswirl. “It’s possessing you, corrupting your thoughts.” He extended a hoof. “Take it off, friend. Let’s just talk, okay?”

The stallion slapped his hoof away. “If it is, then I don’t care. I don’t care about anything anymore.” He stamped his hoof, and shouted, “I’ve been ignored for too long. I’m sick of it. Sick of being treated like crap. Let’s see if they’re sick of me after this.”

“Hey,” insisted Stygian. “Please, you’ve got to rethink things.” He placed a hoof on the stallion’s shoulder, just as Starswirl had done to him. “You’re strong, okay? You’re your own pony, and you don’t need the amulet to do that. And if there’s anyone who can believe in your strength now, it’s me. As a friend.”

The stallion stared at Stygian with wide eyes. He began to tremble as tears formed in his eyes and he opened his arms, as if asking for a warm hug.

Then the aura around his eyes pulsed brightly. He tilted his head upward and screamed in rage, snarling, spittle flying from his mouth. He aimed his horn and pointed a blast of powerful magic at Stygian, obliterating him just as Philomena tried fruitlessly to divert the beam of magic away.

When Stygian came to, he heard the sound of wailing.

His eyes snapped open and he cringed. The stallion in front of him was rolling on the floor, thrashing aimlessly as the fireball consumed him.

Philomena hovered over him trying to fan out the flames with no avail. Eventually, the cries grew weaker and weaker, until silence filled the store.

As Stygian watched on, his mouth shuddering, Philomena slowly landed beside him and butted her head against his side.

It was no use. Unlike Stygian, the stallion had no means of coming back to life.

Hot tears ran down Stygian’s cheeks. Here was a pony in need of help, and he’d failed, badly. He turned away, unable to stomach the sight, instead concentrating on the wrecked town landscape and the distant cries.

He paused. There were even more thin, fiery threads now, dozens of paths crisscrossing like a jagged scar.

So, Stygian did the only thing he knew he could do. With Philomena now following beside him, he picked one and followed it.

To Die Again

It was useless. Useless.

Somewhere along the way, Stygian began to keep a tally.

Sometimes, he would find ponies he could save. He’d find them, cornered, trapped. He’d give his life and soul away and away and away to set them free.

He’d lost count of the times he couldn’t help. A sickly mother on her last legs. A starving beggar on the streets of Manehattan. A diminutive drake in the dragon lands, beaten and ridiculed by his larger peers.

Sometimes, he’d fail, and set the wrong ponies on fire. Sometimes, he’d turn them away in fears of setting them on fire. Sometimes, he could do nothing at all.

As he wandered Equestria, Stygian began to settle on one, definitive truth.

“Everypony’s suffering,” he told Philomena. “Twilight’s doing a good job, she really is. This world’s a much happier place than a sad one.” He sighed. “But everypony’s suffering. It isn’t always saving ponies from fires, or defeating Ursa Minors. It isn’t even about… about…”

He squeezed his eyes shut and cringed. The ponies possessed by their amulets were the ones he always remembered. They’d go kicking and screaming until the end, and Stygian would never be able to help them.

Philomena trilled, hopping on his back. She nuzzled his mane.

“Awh, I know,” said Stygian. “I appreciate you. I really do. You’ve always been the positive one.”

Philomena ruffled her feathers and chirped approvingly.

Stygian gave a half-smile. He shut his eyes for a while, then opened them again, hoping that the fiery threads would just go away.

But just like the last time he’d tried, and the time before that, and the thousands of times before that, they remained. They spread out across the entire land, an unforgiving grid of laser-sharp points and needles. They passed through him, feeding his gut with a sensation of pure, unrelenting emptiness.

He squeezed and opened his eyes again. Squeezed, and opened. Squeezed, and opened. He didn’t care that they throbbed from pain.

Then, as he opened his eyes one more time, he saw a thread that shone brighter than the rest. It led only a short way away. With trepidation in his chest, Stygian followed it.

He stumbled into another clearing and ducked into the bushes. At the clearing’s center, a young stallion much his size stood.

Above him loomed a dirty, black fog. Its tendrils snaked in the air, writhing about like a pit of snakes. Its ethereal mane filled the air with an oppressive weight. Its two eyes pierced into the stallion like a sword into flesh.

It reminded Stygian of the Pony of Shadows.

He felt a ping in his head as his gut practically snapped. Breathing faster and faster, he watched, frozen, as the creature promised the stallion pride, fame, anything beyond his wildest dreams. But only if they joined together.

Stygian turned toward Philomena. “We’re—we’re immortal, aren’t we?”

Philomena nodded cautiously.

Stygian stared at the sky. A hollow chuckle escaped his lips. He looked back at the bright line connecting to the young stallion, then at the uncountable other lines all around it. “And since you’re immortal, how would you go out?”

Philomena stared at him worriedly. She put a gentle wing on his side. ‘No,” she seemed to say. ‘No.’

“In a blaze of glory, perhaps.” Stygian stepped out of the brush and began walking toward the stallion and the creature, who both turned their heads in surprise. “I’ve lived a good life. I shouldn’t have made it this far. But I did, and I saved some ponies along the way, too.”

The creature lunged for Stygian.

Stygian looked toward the sky once more and raised a hoof. Then, with a holler, he swung it down and snapped the thread.

He screamed as searing pain shot throughout his body, and he began to glow. But behind gritted teeth, he watched in satisfaction as the creature shouted in disbelief, then vaporized into thin air.

He raised his hoof again. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I can help end the suffering after all.” Snap. Scream.

Philomena flew beside him, wildly flapping in his face, cawing at him to stop.

He looked at her with a pained expression, the tears again running down his face. “I’ll miss you, Philomena,” he said.

He pushed her away, and concentrated.

He dove deep within himself, drawing up all his energy, every last dredge of flame remaining.

Then, with a deep breath, he lifted his hoof again, and swung.

Snap, snap, snap, snap. His body began to glow brighter and brighter as he severed string after string. Soon, the light turned into fire. He ignored the pain, ignored Philomena’s cries. All that remained in his mind was to take as many strings with him as he could.

And finally, he collapsed to the ground, spent. He smelled the smoke around him as he burnt for the last time.

Philomena landed on his chest. Stygian watched with a weary smile as a single tear fell from her cheek.

As the world grew dark around him, he asked, “They’ll live a better future, right?”