The Legend of Delta

In every land there is a legend of a strange cloaked figure. Only seen on stormy nights, he roams the streets. He only appears once every great while. The stories of this occurrence date back hundreds of years.

He carries a lantern by its handle in a distinctive green glow. a similar green glow emanates from under his hood. The lanterns flame provides a green light, lighting only the immediate vicinity. Some say he is a demon, others say he is a guardian. Some say a wandering spirit, who may or may not have died in a storm. But in every culture the description is the same.

But only one ever came to know him personally, and take this story to heart because this story is true. This is the story of when somepony dared to meet this stranger. That pony was me.

Twilight looked up from her book, and out the window to a stormy night. She had this book when she was younger, she loved it. She even asked Zecora about it once. The zebra agreed that they had such a figure in folklore. And the description matched that of the book.

She readjusted the book under the candlelight.

~Δ~

And now to begin our story, it was as described earlier, a stormy night. The occasional crack of thunder drowned out the green glow. A cloaked figure walked down a road, levitating with green magic, a lantern, lit with green flame.

A sign was by the road, or protagonist held up the lantern, it read “Welcome to Ponyville.” he had scouted it out, but not as this persona. He scouted ahead under a disguise to make the proper arrangements.

He decided to live the next decade or so here. But he always has to make his dramatic entrance. He entered the town opposite of where he would live. So he could traverse the most of it. Each time he did this there were a few dozen that see it. But they all are dismissed as a dream. But he likes hearing the rumors spread. Only once had anyone ever confronted him.

He looked around as a flash of lightning silhouetted the buildings. The rain was pouring off of his cloak. As he walked the lantern lighting his way as he meandered across town.

He could see the shocked look on somepony’s face as they looked out the window. He smiled to himself. This pony had read the story and new the rumors. She couldn’t tell if this was the fabled buck, but she had little doubt, though she never left the window. She just there watching as this living fable walked down the street.

I will take this time to give you some background. Ever creature that possesses magic has the slight possibility of creating an immortal being, a god of sorts. More are born than you think, but the beginning of their life is very difficult and very few live for very long. Those that survive for a few centuries gain incredible power. Such as those who rule the country our protagonist has chosen for the current few decades.

The princesses that rule this where in fact sisters, it must have been something in the family. You are more likely to be struck by lightning thrice in the same storm than be born one. Then you have a very small chance of actually living long.

He was born around the 5th centennial sun celebration. Approximately, when you become that old the date doesn’t really matter anymore. He has attained a state near omnipotence over the past five centuries. So he could do just about anything his mind brought forth, but he saw no use of using such power. Other than this trek he takes approximately every decade, he never attempts to make himself known beyond the level of survival, it took two hundred years to decide to settle down and have a ‘normal’ life, but that ended as the curse of immortality caught up to him.

Sure immortality is very fun. And you get to make more friends, and the making a friend does outweigh the pain that their end causes. And they will never be forgotten. And when a friend dies during his disguise, he uses magic to create an unnatural storm, and puts on his standard form and walks as the legend to the graveyard and leaves a note saying farewell with the mark “Δ” often stylized to be the impossible triangle, all who know the legends know if it as the symbol for Delta as the name of this apparition is. It is at the end of the note is the original form of the delta.

Now we shall continue with our story. The purple mare had finished her book; it was a short book, for it leaves out many details. Leaving it a vague story, a perfect bedtime story though. She decided to head off to bed, levitating the calndle, though she decided to look outside window once more, and the candle she held in her levitation fell.

The candle extinguished before hitting the ground. Her mouth agape. She soon assumed it to be a prank played with appropriate weather. So she put a small barrier over herself as she stepped outside and ran after the figure illuminated by the green lantern.

“Hey! Stop!”

The cloaked figure turned around to face her. In the process he purposely put the lantern in between the two in a way she could be observed without his face being seen. “You wish to speak with me, congratulations; thou art the second, in five hundred years, and the first in three hundred,” the voice was quite raspy, and produced an ominous, almost as if there was no voice to the speech, but it was not strained as if it had been lost.

“I know you are not Delta, so why don’t you get out of the rain. I have room in the library.”

“I am Delta, and I hath someplace to be.”

“Pony tails aren’t true.”

“Wasn’t the legend of nightmare moon just a ponytail?”

She thought it over in just under a second, “You can quit that voice, who are you anyway?”

“I hath already told you.”

Inside she was excited at how convincing he was, but didn’t show it, “Prove it.”

“I need not prove it to you.”

“Then I NEED NOT believe you,” she mimicked his dialect.

“Fine then, I must be off.”

“Where are you going?” she asked concerned.

“Thou need not know.”

“Then you are coming with me.”

“Neigh,” he declined.

“That wasn’t an offer,” she levitated him against his will, she was squealing with joy at the possibility of him being real, and to get him to the library for further analysis.

“I request that thou set me on the ground.”

She didn’t hear him as she trotted excitedly towards the library. She set him down in the center of the main room. “Excuse me miss, but in my abduction I hast neglected to ask thine title. May I inquire into what that may be?”

“My Name is twilight sparkle, now let’s remove those damp clothes,” she took them off magically and a few items dropped out. he took a mental note of how she acted as if knowing no social conduct.

Our protagonist picked them up and delicately set them on a table, even though he had enchanted them to the point of being nigh indestructible. He looked over to one Miss Sparkle who stood there with her jaw agape.

“What are you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” he responded.

Her eyes ran across him, the jagged horn, the black body, some sort of armor on its back. And then it had the wings of an insect. The eyes now that she could see them where draconic slits instead of standard pupils. He was in a way, a demon.

Twilight began pondering through this in her head, questioning about all ponytails in the back of her mind, while the rest was being focused on processing the current fable standing in her library. He watched as she paced around the center of the library. It was easy to see that it had been magically restored many times where she was pacing. He quickly came to the conclusion with how deep on thought she was he could slip away.

He took this opportunity to gather his things and slip out. The befuddled mare not noticing the occupancy limit of the room has dropped to one. But soon doubled again, “Twilight, why are you pacing, again!?”

“I am trying to make sense of. . .” she gestured a hoof to where he was standing when she lost herself.

The dragon went back up to his basket on the floor and wrapped himself up angrily in his blanket.
Though our protagonist did not leave without leaving a mark, a paper left on the table, marked with the impossible triangle.